


Coming Home

by orphan_account



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Character Death, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Memory Loss, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation from 'You Mean Nothing to Me.' After a year of being in a coma and waking up from the hospital - Murmurer à Son Oreille (whisper in his ear) preview - Hannibal brings Nigel home. Nigel agrees to go to Paris, the day before their trip, the twins go shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twins go Shopping

Nigel’s eyes glance at two plane tickets to Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport, dated for tomorrow, early morning flight. He had said to his brother that he would go to Paris, but he isn’t still sure if it will at least bring back some pieces of memories. “Well then, I guess we really are fucking going. How long are we staying there again?” 

“I was thinking we’d stay at least five days, but the return tickets can be changed. We can stay as many or as few days as you want.” Hannibal lays a hand on Nigel’s arm. 

“I know this is difficult for you, not being able to remember much of anything.” Sighing, his eyes are soft as he looks at his brother’s face. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me that you’re willing to go.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on an airplane.” Nigel remarks, his forehead furrowing a bit as his body slightly tremors, his fingers still brushing over the two tickets with his brother’s and his name. 

“Well, I don’t have anything to wear besides what you have gotten for me the other day, if we’re going to stay there, let’s say about a week, then I need more than two pairs of jeans and three t-shirts.” 

Noticing Nigel’s faint tremors, it’s all he can do keep himself from pulling close into a hug. Hannibal swallows thickly, reminding himself to be patient. Still, he can’t restrain himself from combing a lock of hair around his brother’s ear. “We can go out shopping today. I could use a few things myself for the trip. If you’re ready now, I’ll bring the car up.”

Nigel knows Hannibal’s touches are somewhat soothing and it feels soft against his still dry skin. He tries his best not to retract from the touches, but still, his body deceives his initial thoughts. 

“All right, just gimme a minute to put my jacket on.” He puts that dark navy leather jacket on and runs his hand against his choppy and long strands. “I also think I need a haircut. You could gimme one?” 

A slight, true smile on his face, Hannibal runs his hand over the shoulder of the leather jacket. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me.” 

Of course he remembers his little brother always on a moped or a motorcycle. Leather and jeans always suited him. Fingering the matted ends of Nigel’s hair, he nods. “I can do that. Of course.” Letting his eyes sweep over his brother’s face, a faint sigh sounds in his breath at the thought of running his fingers through his hair.

Nigel lifts the collar of the jacket and faintly inhales the smell of the leather. Apart from the obvious smell of worn leather, he can smell the underlying scent of sandalwood and musky scent, surely his brother’s. 

Returning the small smile to his brother, he licks his lower lip. Feeling like something is missing from his previous life. “Okay, so where are we going?” His fingers brush against Hannibal’s hand as he descends the stairs ahead of his brother. 

Following Nigel down the stairs on their way out to shop together, it almost feels like they’re sharing a home, that his brother is not simply some sort of temporary guest. It’s a feeling he craves. Nigel’s hand brushing against his only intensifies that feeling. 

Hannibal takes a deep breath, hoping that when they return from Paris things will be different, they’ll be closer. “There’s a few good shops clustered together downtown. We’ll have a better selection if we go there.” 

Pausing as he grabs his coat, he offers a smile. “I’d love to take you to dinner after. If you’re interested, of course. No pressure.” 

Running his fingertips against the hem of his shirt, which barely covers the stip of skin that shows through the wide waistband of his boxer briefs and the jeans hanging a bit below, Nigel opens the front door. His hand lingers around the porch, trying to grab something that’s not there. Keys, wallets, his iPhone, all those things he used to own are not there anymore. 

“Sounds good. I’d fucking love to have dinner. Sounds like you know the exact place to take me already.” A ghost of a smirk plasters on his face as he opens the front door, his hips swaying as he walks to Bentley.

With his choppy hair and too loose jeans, Nigel looks so much like he remembers him as a teenager. Not frail, but lithe and lean. When Hannibal sees his brother’s small smirk and hears his still familiar cursing, instinctively he grins. At moments like these, it’s easy enough to forget how much time has passed and how different things are. 

Opening the passenger door for Nigel, his fingers brush against the bare skin at his waist as he ushers him inside. As Hannibal walks around the back to the driver’s side, he steals a moment to take a deep breath. 

Once inside, he pats Nigel’s knee before starting the car. “I’m a bit of a clothes horse myself. Perhaps you’ve noticed,” he smiles. “And I do enjoy a good restaurant. So I think it’s fair to say you’re in good hands.”

Seeing the other man open the door for him, Nigel pulls his jeans up and quietly says, “Thank you, Hannibal.” Carding through his long locks that goes down to brush his chin, he exasperatingly sighs and brushes them over his head. “My hair is just too fucking long.” Closing the door and taking his seatbelt, he grins and looks at the mirror. Where he had been shot on the forehead, there is a visible scarring there, but it had been healed rather nicely. At least the raised and distorted skin is almost invisible to his eyes, thanks to his long hair covering it up. 

“Of course I’ve fucking noticed. Plaid suits and paisley ties. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone wear those stuff besides you.” He touches where Hannibal had patted, running his hand against the fabric of the jeans. “I am sure whatever you plan to feed me will be great, you have been so fucking nice.” 

As Hannibal drives, he glances over at Nigel grooming in the mirror, smiling at the familiar gesture of him pushing his hair from his face. Despite his lack of memory, Hannibal knew that his brother was still in there. In so many ways he was the same. Chuckling at Nigel’s comment, he reacts without thinking. “You and I always did have different styles.” Realizing what he said, he quietly clears his throat, focusing his eyes on the road. 

“I hope I have been nice. After all you’ve been through, you need a pleasant place to recover.” Pausing a moment for nerves, he adds, “I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable.” His chest lifts with a heavy sigh. “It’s nothing compared to what you’re going through, but this is an emotional experience for me as well.”

“Oh, I know, from the things you have bought for me, I gather you know fucking hell more about me than I do at the moment. The jeans and shirts feel like they belong on my body.” He pushes his fingertip inside one of the ripped holes in his dark-washed jeans. “I mean, I still don’t know who the fuck I am and didn’t know, or still don’t know a lot about you. I really wish I did, but my memory is fuzzy and I can only recall a few snippets of blurry things.” 

Nigel's eyes flickers to his brother and then onto the road, his hazel orbs indistinctly staring to the road beyond the downtown. His head rolls against the seat, a soft thud. “I wish I can remember everything, but I know that’s not fucking happening.” 

Despite feeling a pang of sadness tug at his heart, Hannibal forces a smile as he glances over at Nigel. “It’s going to take time. As the doctors at the hospital said, you’re already far ahead of others who’ve come out of a long coma in terms of recovery.” 

He runs his hand down this brother’s sleeve. “It’ll come.” Taking a moment while stopped at a traffic light, he turns his body to Nigel and offers a more genuine smile. “As far as knowing things about yourself, or even me, feel free to ask me anything you want. Sometimes even the smallest things turn out to be useful.”

Nigel's shoulder slouches a bit as he turns to face his brother. “So you have told me you’re a psychiatrist, correct? Have you been always that, or did you have any other profession besides that? And what did I used to do before I had the accident?” 

He scratches the back of his head, where the scar lays. It’d completely healed, but he would feel the spot to be occasionally itching. “I mean, I don’t think I would’ve been shot if I was a good person. What the fuck did I do, what did I deserve to be shot like this?” 

The light changes, forcing him to turn his eyes to the road. “I am a psychiatrist, but I haven’t always been. Once upon a time, I was a surgeon. Hence that little bit of extra leverage I was able to use at the hospital on your behalf. I still have old colleagues there.” 

At Nigel’s next question, Hannibal pauses and licks his dry lips. The truth is that he wasn’t quite sure what his brother did, only what the authorities had told him about the circumstances of the shooting. He knew Nigel was involved in some kind of criminal activity, but the details of it were faint. “I’m not really sure what you did in Bucharest. Some business venture, I gather.” There was no point in compounding his brother’s self-deprecation by offering more. The last thing he wanted was for Nigel to linger in self-loathing.

”I think it’s wrong to assume that your injury was something you deserved. People are victimized every day for all sorts of reasons.” He tries to convince himself that it was only partially a lie. Still, the words make his heart a bit heavy.

“So you were… and you still are a doctor. No wonder you had all those medical books laying around the tables and desks.” Nigel remarks, remembering seeing the wound man drawing and other scholarly texts Hannibal had been reading. On the iPad, there were the articles wrote by him and he couldn’t understand any of them. 

“Bucharest… Romania. Is that where I lived before I got shot? But I don’t remember any Romanian. I only remember some French words that keeps repeating inside my brain. Je t’aime beaucoup, mon frere. That’s all I remember, it keeps ringing in my head when I go to sleep.” 

A sigh flutters out of his lips as he stares at the ceiling. “Did I used to live in Paris? Is that why you’re taking me there? I remember you telling me about that teddy bear and you mentioned a fair.” 

Listening attentively as he drives, Hannibal's breath shudders faintly at hearing Nigel speak French. His heart beat begins to sound in his head. He pauses a long moment, letting his rising emotions settle enough to speak without a tremor in his voice. 

“/We/ lived in Paris together. When we were young. It was a long time ago, of course.” His mind fills in the unspoken words as he sighs - but I remember it like it was yesterday. “Do you remember any other French, or just that one phrase?” Unsure if he wants to ask the next question, he’s still unable to stop himself. “Do you know what it means?”

“Je t'aimerai toujours. I remember that one.” Nigel faintly frowns and says, “I know that means ‘I love you so much, my brother,’ but I don’t know what this one means. It has ‘je’ inside, so it must be something to do with me.” 

Listening to his brother speak, he nods, “Makes sense, if I won something for you at the fair, then I must’ve been there living with you.” He swallows and leans his head against the window, crossing his legs over. “Are we almost there yet? I am so fucking itching to walk around and eat. I’m always feeling so starved.” 

Eyes growing liquid, Hannibal diverts his gaze towards a side road. His voice quieter than normal when he replies. “I’ll always love you.” The words sink in painfully as he says them aloud, remembering their promises to one another. “That’s what it means.” 

Grateful for the distraction of searching for a place to pull over, he remains quiet until he drives up in front of a valet. “We’re actually here. I’m happy to eat first if you like. I’m sure after all the weight you lost and that miserable hospital food you had to endure you’re going to be ravenous for awhile.” 

Stepping out of the Bentley, he hands his keys to the valet as the man opens the door for Nigel.

“Je t’aimerai toujours,” now knowing what the word means, Nigel says it out aloud, a bit firmer and louder than the last time. The words roll against his tongue easily, as if he had said it for more than a thousand times. “Je t’aimerai toujours, Hannibal.” He says as he watches his brother stepping out of the car. 

Not only he feels the ravenousness for food, there is a kind of nostalgia that he cannot seem to get rid of. Some kind of void in his heart that he feels from his brother’s voice. 

Watching the valet man open the door, he gets out and walks around the car to stand in front of Hannibal. Leaning against his brother, he places a chaste kiss on the lips and deepens it, curious as to how he would feel afterwards. 

As Hannibal watches Nigel step out the Bentley, the words resonate in his mind. I’ll always love you, Hannibal. 

Inhaling the cool evening air, he tries to steady his breath and the fluttering in his chest. There’s a certain look in his brother’s eyes as he approaches. A shared glace perhaps, but he doesn’t trust his judgment at all anymore. Instinctively closing his eyes as Nigel leans close, his breath trembles as he presses into the chaste kiss. Feeling his brother not pulling away, he takes his hand and kisses him harder. Electric tremors race down his back. His full lips part and gently stroke Nigel’s. It feels like his feet are planted in place. 

Reluctantly, he lowers his head, keeping his eyes closed a moment. He swallows hard before lifting his gaze. Unsure of what to say, he offers the only words that come easily. “Thank you.”

Nigel feels it, that familiar, but the longing surge of undulating waves of arousal travel down to the core. He still doesn’t understand it fully, but his body reacts to the kiss. As soon as he feels Hannibal’s lips part, he molds his lips harder, tilting his head and pressing his body hard against Hannibal’s body, backing the other against the Bentley. 

Feeling Hannibal’s head lower to the ground, he hesitantly parts, feeling his heart race. He grabs his brother’s hand and places it on his hammering heart. A bit of saliva, both of theirs, bead around the corner of his lips. 

“Thank you? Is that what you say after having a fucking fervent kiss with someone who you say that you’ll always love? I mean, I still don’t know how I fucking feel about you, but that /was/ fucking something.” Entwining his fingers against Hannibal’s as he parts from his brother’s body, he drags Hannibal’s hand. “Dinner can wait, off to that clothes store before they close.” 

Gazing into Nigel’s eyes, his fingers gently clutch over his brother’s pounding heart. Hannibal can no longer hide the tremors in his breath. Overwhelmed with the moment and Nigel’s words, he finds himself speechless, almost frozen in place. His mind races, fighting between holding on to his patience and letting go. Nearly stumbling as Nigel tugs his hand, he grips the other’s tight to follow after. 

Before they reach the store, he stops. “Wait.” Swallowing hard, he places a hand on Nigel’s chest and pushes him against the storefront. Leaning forward, his heavy lidded eyes flick up to his brother’s. Breath warm against his lips, he whispers. “That’s not what I have to say after a kiss like that. What I have to say is … more.” Lips clashing with Nigel’s, he kisses him deeply. Tilting his head, he pushes his brother’s lips open. His tongue sweeps just inside as he pushes his body against his brother’s. Completely lost in the moment, he forgets all about his patience, where they are, how long they’ve been kissing. Everything except the feel of their bodies pressed close and Nigel’s perfect lips on his.

His stormy intense pupils blow wide as Hannibal calls him and Nigel backs against the brick wall of the store, the side of the building as he grunts with a thud. He can feel Hannibal’s warm breaths against his face as he looks straight into those tempestuous maroon eyes. 

“You want… more.” His chest heaving strongly against his brother’s as his hand circles around Hannibal’s waist, he gasps and opens his mouth, cupping the other’s soft and full lips as he tightly pulls Hannibal, now his hand upon the dip of the spine. “H-Hannibal, clothes. Clothes first. Then I’m sure we can do whatever the fuck we want to do. Have patience. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Reluctantly parting as his gaze lands on the bright street lights and the harbor he sees in front of the storefront, he licks his lips and runs his thumb along Hannibal’s lips. “I think I know why you’re taking me to Paris… That’s where our home is. Our fucking home.”

As Nigel pulls him close, Hannibal moans faintly, his cock stiffening. His mind repeats endlessly. I want you. He rests his forehead against his brother’s. Softly panting, he licks his lips. He fights to keep the words in his head from coming out. 

Brushing a kiss on Nigel’s cheek, he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere either.” He lingers a moment, inhaling his warm scent. His word nearly inaudible now. “I want you.” Taking a deep breath, he lifts his eyes to his brother’s. His breath trembles at the gentle touch. “Yes....” Curving his fingers around Nigel’s neck, he strokes his jaw with a thumb. “That’s where our home is.” Eyes hovering over his lips, he exhales a sigh. “That’s where we first kissed.”

Dragging his brother’s hand and entering the first store he sees, Nigel pulls Hannibal close and whispers against his ear. “Quicker we do the shopping, I’m sure we’d get to do /more/ of whatever that is you want to do at the restaurant.” 

His usual characteristic smirk upon his lips as he squeezes his brother’s hand and letting it go, he begins to browse the shop and picks out some jackets and shirts. Running upon a patterned shirt that resembles his old dachshund shirt he used to have, he doesn’t exactly remember why he is gravitated towards that particularly bright and loud shirt, but he grabs it. “Hm, weird, but this fucking shirt caught my eyes.” 

Hannibal smiles wide at Nigel’s words. Feeling not just happy, but elated. It’s been so long, he doesn’t remember having felt so light and unburdened. He watches from against a wall, his coat folded over his arm. The sight of his brother shopping for Paris fills him with a warm glow. Dark eyes tracing the curves of Nigel’s body, he swallows a groan. As hungry for him as he ever was as a young man. Hungrier. 

Biting his lip, his gaze lingers on his brother’s narrow hips and firm ass. Despite all he had been through, Nigel looks more gorgeous than ever. As Hannibal’s eyes land on the garish shirt, he covers his mouth to hide a chuckle. “If it caught your eye, you should have it. Maybe it’s significant for some reason.” 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Nigel rummages through the racks and picks out more shirts like the one he had grabbed. “I don’t know, maybe I raised a fucking weiner dog before.” Wanting to get out of the store quickly, he merely takes off his leather jacket and begins to try the shirt over his thin white t-shirt, finding it a bit tight around his broad shoulders. “A bigger size should fit me nicely.” 

Picking out that particularly kitschy dachshund and few other more plain shirts, his eyes hover on the short, rider-style jacket. “This one should go fucking nicely with those other lighter washed jeans you got for me, yes?” He walks with his usual swagger, striding through the circular racks to find more thicker coats for him to wear. 

Moving to stand behind Nigel, Hannibal pushes the hair away from his neck. His full lips brush against the warm skin. “You should get whatever you want. It will be cool there.” Closing his eyes, he pecks a soft kiss on his brother’s nape. Long fingers curling around Nigel’s hipbone, he inches closer. “I don’t want you to lack for anything.” 

A dark wool peacoat fitted at the waist catches his eye. “Maybe this? In case there’s an early snow.” A smile pulls at his lips as he remembers their winters together. “Paris is really beautiful when it snows. It makes all the lights twinkle. Everything just glows.” 

“Hm, then I’m getting this black one, that one looks fucking promising, as I don’t have any thick coat.” Snatching the coat from the hanger as he quickly tries it on, finding it snugly fitting his leaner frame, Nigel lifts the lapel of the coat and checks himself on the mirror. “Nice and long, warm, it’s fitting. I like this.” 

Draping all the piles of clothes that he had tried on - six of them in total, he wraps his arm around Hannibal’s waist and shoves the clothes against his brother’s chest. “Guess you’re paying for them. I’ll be waiting by the front door.” Poking Hannibal’s ass as he turns around, he runs his hand over the pin-up girl tattoo. Not knowing why it was on there in the first place, he wonders if Hannibal would know the reason.

Arms folded over his chest, Hannibal admires Nigel’s reflection in the mirror. The dark coat makes his light eyes shine even brighter. “It’s perfect on you.” Taking the pile of clothes from Nigel, he smiles and nods. “Of course. I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll join you.” 

A quick swipe of his Amex card and he’s out the door with two stuffed shopping bags. Still grinning about the poke, he finds Nigel waiting, seemingly lost in thought. He raises the bags in his hands. “All set.” Nudging his brother with his shoulder, he tilts his head to capture his eyes. “Are you doing okay? You seem to be in deep thought.”

His mind wistfully pondering as he takes in Hannibal’s words about Paris, Nigel thinks about the dream he had. How Hannibal’s eyes had glowed when he was kissing his brother against the Bentley under the streetlight, how those maroon eyes glinted like rubies. Gazing into the distance as he watches the moonlight shine through the surface of the rippling water of the sea, he softly gasps when Hannibal nudges his shoulder. 

Turning towards his brother and looking down at the shopping bag, his hand yet again reaches for that ink on his neck. “Speaking of the glowing light, I couldn’t get my mind off of how your eyes looked like those fucking rubies. They glinted under the streetlight beautifully.” His voice trails off at the next sets of words. “I was wondering why I have this fucking pin-up girl tattoo on my neck. I don’t even like those fucking girls. If we had been lovers, why did I get this fucking thing in the first place?” 

A faint blush warms his face at the compliment. Unaccustomed to such praise, Hannibal simply smiles. His eyes linger on the hazel hues of his brother’s. It was one of the main things that distinguished them as twins, their eyes. Nigel’s so fierce and piercing, but still warm somehow. Glancing at the tattoo, he shakes his head. He can only imagine why Nigel chose to get it. It’s not a question he’s of a mind to dwell on at that moment, as his most likely guesses relate back to the little he knows about his brother’s life in Romania.

“I’m not sure why you have it. The first time I saw it was in the hospital when they brought you in.” His words carefully chosen to elide the issue of their parting as lovers. Taking both shopping bags in one hand, he gently takes Nigel’s in the other. “Shall we head to the restaurant?”


	2. At the Restaurant

Nigel believes Hannibal’s word. The man has been nothing, but honest and accompanying to him, so he brushes the issue aside for now. Maybe he will remember the snippets of that memory as well, all those missing pieces of the puzzle he cannot quite put together yet. 

Crossing one of his arm over his chest, the biting wind of November chills him to the core. “I fucking hate the winter. I might wear that peacoat now.” Beckoning his hand as he reaches for the other side to get the coat out, he shoves the leather jacket inside the shopping bag and puts the coat on, the price tag still intact. 

“A fucking grand for a wool coat. You must make fuck tons of money. How much did everything cost?” His finger brushes against the pocket as he puts both of their hand inside. “Yes, I am so fucking hungry that I might eat a goddamn horse.” 

After helping Nigel on with the new coat, Hannibal smooths the shoulder flat. “Good thing you chose something warm. And it looks wonderful on you too.” Squeezing his brother’s hand, a short chuckle sounds in his breath. “I don’t even remember what everything cost, and it doesn’t matter anyway. You needed clothes. You’ll need more, I’m sure. Maybe we can even pick up some things in Paris.” He sighs as Nigel tugs their hands together into his pocket. 

Gesturing with a tilt of his head, he pulls his brother in the direction of a small, dark bistro. “I know somewhere close that you might like. They have the best steak frites in the city. Perhaps some oysters and wine first. Anything you like. Sound alright?”

His hand brushes over the soft wool as Nigel squeezes Hannibal’s hand back. “Shopping in Paris sounds nice. Walking on the cobblestones and we’d get to watch the Eiffel Tower at night. That would be fucking awesome.” He can now indulge in the thought of kissing his brother under those sparkling light and the idea makes him warm. 

“Ah, steak frites sounds delish. All those things, yes. And I fucking want more.” Walking alongside Hannibal as he feels the salty sea breeze tickle his face, he combs through his hair. “I wonder If I will look good in short hair. Did I have short hair before?” 

Walking hand in hand with Nigel feels so right. Able to put his negative thoughts aside for the night, Hannibal relishes every moment of it, feeling more hopeful than ever. 

Stopping a moment, he stands in front of Nigel. Smiling, he brushes a lock from his face. He sighs as his eyes sweep over his brother’s features. The sharp angles highlighted by the streetlight. “Your hair always was on the long side. It suits you, I think. It frames that lovely face so well.” 

He tugs the collar of Nigel’s coat up higher. “Of course, you’d look good with short hair too. You could carry off any style. … Still up to trusting me with a haircut?” 

His eyes flicker down on his boots and back up to Hannibal’s face, the wind picking up more speed as they near the bistro Hannibal had talked about. Perhaps his more lean and lithe figure takes more adjustment in enduring the cold weather as he feels his pronounced cheekbone chill against his touch. 

“Long side… Mm, then I’ll just keep it longer, but definitely shorter than this. It’s bordering on bob. Yeah, I want you to cut my hair.” Regretting not getting any thick sweaters or something more substantial, he just figures he could steal some of his brother’s more loose sweaters. 

Pushing the door open as they arrive in front of the bistro, Nigel exhales as he feels his face warm up inside the restaurant. “Where should we sit then?” 

Hannibal motions to a maitre’d and begins helping Nigel off with his coat. Feeling the cold rising off his brother, he shakes his head and wraps him in a hug. “My god, you’re cold. We need to get you some warmer things. I’ve got plenty you can borrow for the trip until we get back.” 

After exchanging a few words in French with the maitre’d, they’re lead to a dark table in the back. It’s later than the dinner rush, so the room is quiet except for strains of soft music. Once seated, he lays a hand over his brother’s. “I’m glad you agreed to dinner. As much as I enjoy cooking, it’s nice to let someone else handle it now and then. Would you like to look at the menu, or should I order for both of us?”

A slight tremor carrying through his body as Nigel leans against his brother, who is still warm to the touch. “You’re so fucking warm. I wonder if it’s my body still not up to par or I used to run cold. My hands are still cold as fuck..” 

He frustratingly sighs and walks to follow the maitre’d. He can pick up some French words, but not a lot. Hoping he could grasp better sense of language when he goes to Paris, he sits against Hannibal, their thighs brushing as they sit side by side. “Just order whatever you want to order and this is nice. I hope the dishes are as delicious as what you have cooked me so far. Everything you have cooked were fucking spectacular, especially that beef stroganoff the other night.” His hand brushes over Hannibal’s thigh. 

His breath shudders. Reaching under the table, Hannibal lays a hand atop Nigel’s. Biting his lip, his eyes flash a hungry glare. Suddenly distracted by a waiter, he places their order in French. 

He turns his attention back to Nigel as soon as the man walks away. Leaning close, he squeezes his hand. “If you touch me, I’m not going to want to finish dinner.” Brushing his lips against his brother’s neck, his hand moves to stroke his thigh. “I would love for you to stay in my room tonight.”

A faint smirk adorns his lips as Nigel watches Hannibal order for both of them. As soon as the waiter leaves, his hand grabs the glass of water, downing it as a water trickles down his neck. The other hand teases Hannibal’s inner thigh, dangerously close to his length. 

“Then you’d have to wait until I finish the fucking dinner. There’s no fucking way I am doing this with my stomach empty.” Tearing the bread inside the basket and taking it in front of him on the small plate, he takes the olive oil and balsamic vinegar and begins to dip the bread. “Of course, I’d like to.” He gently squeezes Hannibal’s cock and begins to unzip the pants under the tablecloth as he pops the piece of bread inside his mouth.

His tongue sweeps between his lips as Hannibal watches Nigel dig into the bread. Hips twitching under the table, he closes his eyes and breathes deep. Consumed with a different kind of hunger, his heavy cock strains against the fabric of his pants. 

As his brother’s fingers close around it, he shudders. He slides forward in his chair as his zipper is pulled down. Panting softly, he exhales his words. “Oh fuck …” His head rolls back against the smooth leather. Taking Nigel’s hand, he shoves it over his bare length. “Touch me. I need it. I want you so much.”

Starting to get a bit aroused as Nigel takes out Hannibal’s length from the open zip as directed by his brother’s hand, his thumb begins to press and rub against the smooth head. 

“You’re fucking big and so fucking hard.” Quietly muttering as he slowly runs his fingers against the veiny shaft, he feels the foreskin glide against his now warmed up fingers. 

“And you are going to hold it until our food comes out. I will feed you while I stroke your length.” His hand reaches all the way down to the base of Hannibal’s cock as his fingers dig deeper, taking the balls out and rolling his fingers against the velvety sac. 

Biting his lip, Hannibal closes his eyes. Every touch makes him ache for more. More intense even than he remembered. His face flush, he looks at Nigel with hazy eyes. “I’ll try … but you’re already making me crazy.” Rocking his hips gently, he squeezes his brother’s thigh, “I seem to recall yours being just as big … and often even harder.” 

A faint groan slips through his parted lips as he clenches. “Do you want me?”

Tearing and dipping another piece of bread as he puts in his mouth, his palm bounces Hannibal’s heavy cock, feeling the weight and warmth that radiates from it. Feeling the precum bead around the slit as Nigel smears it all over the shaft, he squeezes the swollen head hard. 

“Perhaps that is my intention. I’m still working around my feelings for you, but I already know how you feel about me.” He can feel his own slightly tenting against his jeans. 

“I am not quite sure if it’s gonna be bigger or harder than yours, do you want to reciprocate, or perhaps do /more/ as you speak?” Another hard squeeze along Hannibal’s base as his fingers clench around. “Be more specific. In what fucking way?” He dips more bread and pushes inside Hannibal’s parted mouth.

Feeling Nigel stroke the slick down his cock,, Hannibal whimpers quietly. His arousal deepening so quickly, it leaves him nearly breathless. Leaning his head against the seat, he turns his face to his brother. Swallowing hard to catch his breath, his pupils flare. 

He trails his fingers up to Nigel’s clothed cock, Brushing it gently before rubbing his thumb over the head. “It feels more than big to me.” He slips his hand inside his brother’s loose jeans. Laying his palm over the length, he curls his fingers around and strokes gently. He whispers in his ear. “More specifically, do you want to fuck me.”

Nigel’s hand moves faster as he watches the food come out. Steak frites and oysters with lemon wedges. His eyes glint with arousal and voraciousness as he feels more dense liquid wet his fingertips. “Ahh… yes.” His breathing skips a beat as he feels Hannibal’s hand reach and stroke his already hard cock. 

When his brother’s hand sneaks inside his jeans, he can feel a trail of wetness against his boxer briefs. His head rolling against his shoulder as he grabs the edge of the table, his already hard cock weeps more viscous precum. 

“Y-yes. I want to fuck you when we get home, and I might want you to suck me off before then, which is now.” His trembling hand reaches for the steak as he grabs, feeling ravished and famished at the same time, he stuffs himself with the meat and eagerly chews it down. Wanting to finish the dinner quickly and get home. 

Hannibal licks his lips as his fingers glide through the slick from Nigel’s cock. Pushing his hand lower, he grips the base and gently pumps. Ignoring his food, he inches closer in his seat. His nose nuzzling in Nigel’s hair, he laps at his ear. 

“You always did have an appetite.” Forcing his hand deeper inside his brother’s jeans, he brushes a slick finger over his entrance. “For my ass and also my cock…. Mm. But first my mouth.” 

After taking a quick glance around the darkened room, he pushes Nigel’s thighs apart and begins to unzip his jeans. His long fingers pull his brother’s cock free. “You keep eating. I’m hungry for something else.”

His heartbeat elevating and the heart thumping heavily against his ribcage, Nigel wiggles in his seat, feeling more slick trail down the length as Hannibal’s fingers work his length.

Swallowing his food and guzzling down the water to wash it all down, he groans and arches his back against the leather cushion, his ass almost sliding down the edge of the seat.

“Ahh… yes, I need your fucking mouth over it, hurry the fuck up.” His hand still inside Hannibal’s pants as he desperately squeezes the length, he rolls his fingers hard against the swollen head, which leaks more liquid. 

Clenching tight as Nigel squeezes, Hannibal exhales a gasp. Panting hard, he gazes at his brother, urgent lust in his dark eyes. Easing Nigel’s hand out of his pants, he pushes his chair back and slips under the table. He pushes his brother’s thighs further apart and moves in between. 

Brushing his face against Nigel’s cock, his dark hair trails across his lean abs. He licks a long trail from the base to the tip. Cupping his lips over the head, he pulls the thick length away from his body.His plush lips blossom as he pushes them over the slick head. Rolling his mouth around it, his cheeks hollow as he sucks. His thumbs press into the soft inner thighs as he pushes his mouth lower. 

Tracing the veins with the tip of his tongue, he bobs slowly. Pressing his tongue flat, he can feel the foreskin gliding up and down as he thrusts his mouth over the shaft. Gripping the base, he pumps with his lips pressed tight. Pausing to take a breath, he swirls his tongue over the smooth helmet. With the point of his tongue, he laps at the beads of precum rising up from the slit. 

Humming, he pushes down, his sharp teeth grazing the crown and veins. Taking Nigel deep, he swallows hard as his throat instinctively closes. He puffs hard through his nose, slowly taking his full length in long strokes.

Hesitantly letting go of Hannibal’s cock, his hand tightly clings against the edge of the leather seat. Propping himself with his arm, Nigel continues to eat the steak pieces with gusto, mainly to muffle his loud groans as his eyes flutter close. Biting his lips as he feels his brother’s hair brush against his abdomen, he lets out a long, shaky groan as his cock heavily bobs, feeling Hannibal’s fleshy tongue against his throbbing cock. 

“Oh… fuck lord…” A fluttering inhale, followed by a swallow, his adam’s apple bobs as his lips part. His thighs tremor in arousal as he feels the surge of blood course through his lower abdomen. The warmth enveloping his pulsating cock as his smooth head leaks more clear liquid, he clenches his eyes shut and bites onto the steak. Pursing his lips and beginning to thrust his hips as he feels Hannibal’s full lips firm against his veiny cock, he reaches under the table and roughly tugs his brother’s hair. 

“Ahh… fuck, get your fucking mouth against it, it’s coming… Ahh…” The veins on the surface of his shaft throbs with blood flow as he lurches in his seat. As his nails dig deeper into Hannibal’s scalp as he juts his hips, he spurts dense cum deep inside his brother’s throat, feeling the tip kiss the back of his brother’s throat. 

Moans vibrate in his throat as Nigel clutches his hair. Fingers digging into his brother’s thighs, Hannibal rocks on his knees. Saliva and precum coating his lips and dripping in strands. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he presses his lips hard against Nigel’s groin. Holding him by the hips, a hot rush of cum fills his mouth. 

Hollowing his cheeks, he swallows it down. His adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically. Hannibal continues to suck as his brother’s hips still. Milking his cock with gentle pressure from his lips and tongue. Pulling off with a wet smacking sound, he flicks the head with his tongue. Quickly slipping back into his seat, his face is a deep flush. His dark hair fringed over his eyes.With a finger he swipes a drop from the corner of his lip and sucks it clean. 

A thin coat of perspiration coating his defined and angular face as his long ashen locks stick haphazardly all over his face. His heavily lidded eyes gazing down under the table, Nigel can only make his hard cock bobbing against Hannibal’s full lips as his brother milks his cock down. 

His t-shirt damp with sweat as his chest hammers through, he can feel it ringing inside his brain. His lips still parted as he watches Hannibal crawl back up, he turns his brother’s face by grabbing the other’s jaw hard and clashes his lips, his hand reaching for still hard cock that throbs against his palm. 

Groaning, Hannibal surges into the kiss. His wet lips groping to envelop Nigel’s. Humming as the tastes mix on his tongue. His hips rock into his brother’s touch. Breathless, he rubs his cheek against Nigel’s. “Oh … oh fuck … You taste so good, I can’t wait to taste you everywhere.” Gripping his brother’s wrist, he stares at him wild-eyed. “I think we need to go before I tear all your clothes off…. Now.”

Nearly dragging Nigel out by the wrist, Hannibal flagged for the Bentley. The whole way home, he kept his hand on his brother’s thigh. Stealing glances every chance he could at the thick erection outlined in his jeans. Bursting through the door when they got home, he threw off his coat and pushed Nigel against the back of the door. Grinding against him, he nipped his lip. “To my fucking room. Now.” Taking him by the hand, he hurried up the stairs.


	3. Recreating their First Lovemaking

Shopping bags thrown aside as Nigel quickly takes his peacoat off, he grinds back as his brother pushes him against the door. Following him and almost tumbling against the stairs, he pushes Hannibal on the bed and begins to undress. His damp shirt pulled over his head, his loose jeans sliding off and his underwear almost ripped off of his muscular thighs. 

“If this is what fucking home feels like, all the things I have dreamed of, I can see a little bits now, more clearly. I’d dream about me laying against your chest. Listening to your drumming beat under me and feeling the sunlight filtering through the window. I want this every single fucking day.” Beckoning his brother to take off his clothes, he places himself between Hannibal’s thighs. 

Hannibal groans as his ass hits the bed. Propping himself up on his elbows, he watches breathlessly as Nigel undresses. Each new bit of bare skin like a gift he had been waiting forever to unwrap. His cock aching, he whimpers at the sight of his brother’s cock hanging heavy against his thigh. His fervent gaze softens at Nigel’s words. 

“This is what it feels like. This has always been home to me. Ever since the first time.” Quickly shedding his pants, he pulls his sweater over his head. His dark hair softly falls over his eyes. His cheeks flush with arousal. As Nigel moves between his legs, his hips roll up. “Oh god … You look so fucking good. I’m dying to feel you inside me.” 

Hands wrapped around his brother’s arms, he pulls him down to lay flush against his chest. Winding his legs around Nigel’s thighs, he rocks against him. 

“When was the first time? All I could feel and hear was your tanned flesh against my body and the sound of your deep breathing and beating heartbeat underneath me.” Nigel comments as he presses his lips against Hannibal’s neck, dragging his tongue upward in a wide stripe. 

“As do you. So fucking marvelous. No wonder this is what home feels like. All the fucking time I desperately tried to find it, maybe that’s why I dreamed it so many fucking times.”

Feeling their hard cocks brush against each other’s, Nigel moans and brushes his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder and chest. Lifting himself up to line his smooth head against his brother’s tight entrance, he begins to push inside, driving his hips hard. With a bite on his lower lip, he feels Hannibal’s tight entrance take his hard rod. “Fuck… So fucking tight and wet. How long have you been wet? Since when I kissed you?”

Arching his neck, his breath trembles with ragged pants. “The first time was on our birthday. We were so young. … But we couldn’t wait.” Squeezing to lift his ass, he rocks in deep thrusts. He wraps his arms around Nigel’s neck. Closing his eyes tight, Hannibal drifts in the feeling of their bare bodies pressed tight. His brother’s weight melting into him. Tears push from the corners of his eyes. 

“I dream of it too.” Shuddering at the feel of Nigel’s hard cock rubbing against his, he gasps. “Oh god … yes.” Canting his hips, he clenches tight. No one had taken him since his brother. So long ago. At the first push, he hugs Nigel’s neck. “Ahh! ...ahh… oh fuck.” 

Trembling, he feels his walls stretch to take his brother’s thick length. “Oh god…” A hot wave rolls over him. Sobs sound in his breath. “Yes… The kiss pushed me over the edge. It was all I could think about.”

The first penetration takes his breath away, his heartbeat escalating rapidly as Nigel breaches through, the exquisite friction immediately has him gasping and puffing for air. “Ahh…. fuck… umph!!” His hips jerk harder, the base of his cock slamming against Hannibal’s tight entrance. His balls already heavy. 

“H-how young? Thirteen? Fourteen? And when the fuck is our birthday? There are still so many things I have questions about.” He can feel his head become fuzzy. Every time he tries to recall something, he feels his head ache. The bridge of his nose crinkles as he feels a minute, throbbing ache. His body tightly pressing against Hannibal’s, he stills for a moment, his brother’s ring of muscles constricting his cock so tightly. 

Leaning against Hannibal’s face as he turns it, he mutters against his twin’s lips. “I have to admit, the moment after I kissed you, I have never doubted what you were telling me were all true. Us being hopelessly and insatiably in love. Something stirred in me like nothing did.”

Clinging to Nigel’s neck, Hannibal wraps his legs higher around his waist. His heavy breath trembles as each thrust sends waves of exquisite pleasure moving through him. Lifting to match Nigel’s rhythm, his spine curls. 

“F-fourteen … Oh fuck, Nigel. I remember every second of it.” Raising his shoulders off the bed, he pushes his crossed ankles against Nigel’s ass, forcing him deeper. His heart drums relentlessly in his head. Overwhelmed with memories and the bliss of their bodies moving as one. Groaning as his walls squeeze tight, his cock strains with fullness. Nearing the edge, he sobs with each stroke. “We were. …hopelessly … insatiably…. I never stopped.”

Feeling Hannibal’s legs tighten around his ass, Nigel squeezes his gluteus and begins to rock his hips. Taking his curved length out almost all the way and pistons back inside hard. He can feel the spacious bed shake with his forceful thrust. “Was I… your first fuck then?” 

Panting against Hannibal’s neck, his hands wrap around Hannibal’s thighs and pushes off the mattress, lifting his brother higher for deeper thrusts. His muscles make undulating waves as his broad back and ass drives hard in slow, but strong thrusts. At Hannibal’s walls squeezing tightly, the fat veins around his cock begins to throb. “The-there is a gap in my memory that I cannot make of. Why did we part, Hannibal? If we were so fucking desperate for each other. I don’t understand.”

As Nigel’s thrusts come harder, it feels like his whole body is being impaled. Sharp groans fill the air as their bodies slam together. Gritting his teeth, Hannibal hangs on with arms and legs, revelling in the feel of being taken by the only one he’s ever wanted to give himself to. “Y-you- you were my first everything.” His head falls back as Nigel lifts his thighs. 

Arching his back, he gasps as his brother drives in deeper. His walls squeezing and throbbing. So tight he can feel the blood pumping in Nigel’s veins. “Ahh! ...ahh …” Trembling on the edge, his brother’s words pull him back. Clenching his eyes shut, a hard sob shakes his chest. Pulling Nigel tight against him, his hips still. “Oh god … Please … “ His body fights with his mind for control. “Please, Nigel. … “ Hugging his brother with all his strength, tears stream from his eyes. “Please hold me. Please just hold me…”

The intense surge of arousal rips through his body as his thrusts become more shallow and quicker, the tip of the head kisses relentlessly against Hannibal’s prostates as his hips jerk faster. “Then in return.. You must’ve my fucking everything. You were my first fuck then.” His hands snaking up to his brother’s neck, wrapping his arm around the head and under his brother’s arched neck. Sweat beginning to drip profusely onto Hannibal’s body, as well as against the duvet underneath them, the creases and folds prominently increases, their conjoined body gliding against it. His face brushing against Hannibal’s wet cheek, Nigel feels his brother’s warm tears wet his face. 

“Whatever the fuck happened, like I said before, I am not fucking going anywhere… Isn’t this what you have longed and yearned for so long?” He still has some degree of difficulty empathizing with his brother, but as more fragmented memories piece together, he can feel Hannibal’s ravenous desire for him. 

His forehead pressed against Nigel’s shoulder, Hannibal struggles to take deep breaths to silence his sobbing. “Yes….Yes. All I’ve wanted was to be with you.” As his brother’s word settle in, his guilt recedes enough to allow his body to come to the fore. His hips rock smoothly against Nigel’s. 

“I just want to be with you. … Please. Don’t stop…” Panting hard, he peppers his brother’s neck with wet kisses. “Don’t stop…” The friction of their bodies against his cock forces him to clench tight. “Oh god …” Scenting Nigel with his cheek, he moans wantonly. “Oh god … I’m close. … Please cum with me.”

Matching his brother’s rhythm as his thighs flex, Nigel’s thrusts become more relentless, his hips rippling in crashing waves as he pounds rapidly against Hannibal. His neck becoming taut as it arches back, he relishes his brother’s kisses and reciprocates those peppered kisses. Breathless, he pecks more of them along Hannibal’s jawline and he feels his cock throb and pulsate. “Mmph… Ahh....!! Fuck…” 

After a particular hard slam, loads of cum spews deep inside Hannibal as ropes of dense liquid fills it. His heart drumming hard as he collapses against Hannibal’s tanned body, he feels more cum spill as his brother’s walls clench tight around his thick length. “You’ll be…. with me... no matter what happens.” 

His fingers dig into Nigel’s shoulders. Hips thrusting, Hannibal pants breathlessly. Squeezing his legs tight around his brother’s waist as he feels him surge, his walls clench tight. “Ahh! … Oh fuck…”A hard thrusts shakes him to his bones. Pressing his forehead hard against Nigel’s shoulder, he sobs. Gasping, his straining cock spews dense cum between their bodies. Still holding on, the tight muscles of his abs contract rhythmically as he continues to cum. 

“Oh god … oh god…” Wrapping his arms around his brother’s back, his head falls heavily to the bed. His heart frantically throbs. Face dripping with sweat, he lays his head on Nigel’s shoulder. His heavy breath reflecting back from his brother’s neck. 

Panting heavily as he stills, his warm and moist breaths landing against Hannibal’s taut neck. Feeling Hannibal’s cock spill more cum, soaking his already sweat-drenched and tight abdomen. Their hearts pressed tightly together, thumping against each other’s, Nigel languidly smiles, the feeling of home. This had been in his recurring dreams since he began sleeping in Hannibal’s house. Feeling his brother’s cock continue to twitch against his abs, the warmth of his twin and the dense scent of their sweat and sex permeates the air around him. 

Then, he remembers the scent of mulled wine that his brother used to make with lots of cinnamon and cardamom. “I remember… dreaming about having vin chaud… in front of the fireplace, or lamp.. I don’t remember which.” 

Drifting in the afterglow and finally having Nigel in his arms, a satisfied smile curls his lips. The warmth of his body, his breath against him, it all feels like the home Hannibal has missed so much. As his breathing begins to slow, he drapes his head over Nigel’s shoulder, savoring every second of their closeness. Humming, he strokes his brother’s back. “We used to have that at Christmas. Every year after we became lovers. … It always made the apartment smell so festive. Holidays with you were always wonderful.” 

His mind drifts to the charm he brought home from the hospital with Nigel’s possessions. He’s tempted to give it to him, but his mind is still conflicted. What if it’s all happening to fast for his brother. Stroking his hair, he sighs. “It’s so nice that some of these things are coming back to you.”

As he melts into Hannibal’s body underneath him, his breathing begins to slow. His wet locks sticking onto Hannibal’s shoulder, he nuzzles into his brother’s crook of the neck, his hand gently brushing over his twin’s chest fluff. “This… and the mulled wine reminds me of home. Did we have Christmas tree every year, too? All I remember is you fucking me. I don’t remember all the details. All I can recall is that smell and your cock filling me up.” His head begins to ache some more. 

“Mmm... “ His mind flashes over to about half an hour to an hour ago. How his body shuddered in cold wind. “Oh, I was cold. Very cold. That’s what I remember. I was shivering and I couldn’t stop.” He exhales deeply, breathing in Hannibal’s heady and musky scent. 

His fingers drift down Nigel’s spine. Nuzzling against his hair, his chest lifts with a deep sigh. “Mm. We did have a tree.” He chuckles, smiling wide. “I’m sure I spent far too many hours every year decorating it, but it was always beautiful.” Combing his fingers through Nigel’s damp hair, he pecks soft kisses on his cheek. “The first time I … the first time I made love to you was on Christmas. Up until then, I was too unsure of myself.”Letting his eyes close, he lingers in the memory. “You were cold, and hurt in a fight … mm, I warmed you up.”

The time of their departure to Paris ingrained to his brain. November 22nd, at seven thirty am. Nigel still remembers Hannibal being so insistent and adamant about this particular date and told him that he wanted to make there before dinnertime. His mind comes back as he listens to Hannibal speak of their Christmas. “Just like how you are warming me up now.” His hair brushes against Hannibal’s cheek. 

“Why were you so stubborn about leaving tomorrow? We could’ve had more time to prepare. So fucking insistent.” His hand runs against Hannibal’s side. “And you /have/ promised me of a haircut.” 

Arms wrapped around Nigel’s waist, Hannibal rolls them to lay on their sides. Propping his head on his hand, he watches as his hand strokes the curve of his brother’s waist. Lifting his eyes to Nigel’s, he smiles warmly. “Tomorrow is our birthday. I thought it would be special to celebrate it there.” Leaning close, his lips meet Nigel’s in a soft kiss. “Happy birthday, dear brother.” Fingering the locks around his brother’s neck, his smile widens. “I always keep my promises. I’m happy to cut your hair before we go,”

His abdomen contracts as he feels Hannibal’s affectionate touch and as he gets turned to his side, his head gingerly falls against the pillow, the tip of his nose brushing against his brother’s. “I was born in the winter and I fucking hate it. How ironic.” A chuckle slips out as his hand cups Hannibal’s cheek. “Thank fuck for that, I really appreciate it. That was really sweet of you.” 

Reciprocating the kiss and pressing his lips gently against the other’s full lips, he smiles and runs his hand against Hannibal’s chin. “Happy birthday to you, too, Hannibal.” He rolls to his back and swings his legs, sitting up. “I trust your judgment. You know how I looked before, so… I know you’ll give me the best haircut of my life.” 

Sitting up, Hannibal kneels on the bed behind Nigel. His broad hands knead his brother’s shoulders. “I hope I can live up to that endorsement, but I think I can come pretty close.” Draping his arms over Nigel’s chest, he rests his chin on his shoulder. “It was so good to share the bed with you.’ Nuzzling into his neck, he kisses just below his ear. “You’re always welcome.” Sinking back into his knees, he fingercombs the back of Nigel’s hair. “It probably makes sense for you to shower first. It’ll be easier to cut if it’s wet.” Hugging his brother from behind, his chin digs into his back as he smiles. “Besides, we seem to have made a mess of each other.”

Nigel hums contentedly as Hannibal’s hands squeeze the knots on his shoulders. Turning his head and rubbing his cheek against his brother’s, he chuckles and runs his hand on his stomach, which is covered with Hannibal’s cum and his sweat. It glistens as his defined muscles accentuate against the light radiating from the lamp by the nightstand. “Should we do this in the bathroom then? I’m going to use your ensuite bathroom then.” 

His hand brushes against Hannibal’s hand as he feels his brother hugging him from the back. “More like you made a fucking mess on my stomach.” He grins and gets up, offering his hand to his brother. “We can save the water and shower together? I’m sure you’d like that.” 

Returning Nigel’s grin, Hannibal takes his hand and gets up. His long fingers sweep over his brother’s tight stomach. “I did seem to make a mess, didn’t I?” Shivering as a trickle of cum drips down his thigh, his eyes close a long second. He clasps his hands behind Nigel’s neck and presses his hips against him. “I would love to shower with you.” 

Brushing his cheek against his brother’s, he breathes warm against his ear. “After that and the haircut, perhaps you’d like to say in my room. Just to sleep. It would be nice to wake up with you on our birthday.”

“I will gladly take your mess. I’m sure you’d be fucking glad to take my mess eventually.” Nigel half jokes as he watches Hannibal’s thigh leak his spent cum and slick. “And more mess on the floor it seems.” Feeling Hannibal’s body press against his front, the warmth and a bit of weight against him comforting. “And how old are we? I don’t even know how old I am…. And our last name.” 

His body slightly tremors as he feels Hannibal’s breath against his sensitive spot. He shakes his head slightly. “I wouldn’t mind that at all and I still need to pack my stuff.” Walking inside the bathroom and turning on the warm water, he steps into the shower booth first and lets the cascading water wash him over. His wet locks entirely cover his face as he drenches in steamy water.

Admiring Nigel’s face, he smiles. “We will be forty-nine tomorrow.” Shaking his head, he sighs. “Time passes so quickly. But you’re more gorgeous than you ever were.” He continues as he follows to the bath. “Lecter is a very old and historied name. Royalty even. But if I were to go on about that now, I’m afraid we’d both fall asleep.” 

Hannibal steps into the shower after Nigel. Holding his brother’s hips, he arches his neck to let the warm water soak his hair. Beads of water glistening on his lashes, he smiles as he fingers the wet hair from Nigel’s face. “You really do need a haircut badly.”

“Forty nine isn’t that old. Although I have to agree, time passes rather quickly. It feels like I was still in the hospital, but it has been already more than a week here in your house.” Nigel brushes his hair off from his face, taking a long exhale. “Hannibal and Nigel Lecter, the name suits us well.” His hand brushes over his abdomen as he washes off the evidence of their love making. Which reminds him, he gets rather curious about the ugly scar on his left side that runs from just under his armpit, diagonally running all the way down above his navel. “And what the fuck is this from? It is so god awful ugly. The fucking bullet to the brain isn’t enough?” His fingertip brushes against the distorted and raised edge of the scar. “Hence why I am asking for a damn haircut.” 

His eyes drift down Nigel’s body. The light reflecting on his wet skin highlighting his lean, muscular build. Rubbing a handful of suds over his chest, he glances at the scar on his brother’s side. He had seen it in the hospital and even asked the attending physician to look at it. He’d been advised that it was crudely stitched and likely infected many times before it healed. Running his hand along the wrinkled edges, he shakes his head faintly. “We all have scars from our past. Some are more visible than others. I’m sure you’ll remember some day.” 

Tilting his head to look at it more closely, he softly smiles. “Some people like scars. I think it gives you character. From my memories of us as boys, I’m going to guess it involved a fight.” He finishes up washing quickly. Pecking a kiss on Nigel’s cheek, he gets out of the shower and hands his brother a towel.

Quickly washing up as he squirts some shampoo and conditioner, Nigel glances at Hannibal’s more broader, beefy and tanned body. “I wish I was more tanned like you and broader. Looks very masculine.” Watching the foams gliding down his body, he can almost see the blood spill and ooze down the crudely healed scar on his side. When it had rained few nights ago, his scar would emit an unpleasant throb. The distorted edge of the scar would be very sensitive and he could almost feel him getting eviscerated and gutted. His entrails almost pouring out from his side. 

Shaking the thought away as he finishes washing himself off, he mutters. “I must’ve been a fucking bad one, who the fuck gets shot in the head if I was a good man?” Leaning against the kiss and minutely smiling, he wipes himself down and wraps the towel around his waist. “So are we cutting my hair in here or inside the bedroom?”

After pulling on a thick robe, Hannibal begins setting up a few things in the bedroom. Scissors, comb, a chair in front of a long mirror. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in here.” Raking his fingers through his damp hair, he looks in the mirror. He hadn’t seen himself with a smile on his face for a long time. Despite the difficult moments, the evening had been everything he needed. For now. He couldn’t wait to get to Paris. “We’ll make it quick,” he calls to Nigel. “Then we can both get some sleep before our flight.” 

Combing through his damp hair and sitting on the chair, Nigel looks at his reflection on the mirror. Despite what he could devour from the restaurant, he was still feeling a bit starved, but more, he was feeling more tired than usual. Probably his still unused muscles needed to work up a bit more or his energy level wasn’t up to par yet. “Yeah, I am rather feeling sleepy. Just a bit of trim would do me good.” Stretching his neck and flexing his shoulders, he gently closes his eyes. 

As he combs the hair away from Nigel’s face, he can’t help but stare at the mark on his forehead. Although it’s barely visible now, it’s still there. It would always be there. His voice is softer than normal. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to you. There’s nothing to suggest that you were a bad man.” Moving to the back of Nigel’s hair, he combs the damp locks straight down his neck. 

“I have a difficult time believing that was the case. You never were anything but decent and compassionate when we were together.” Of course Nigel had always been in fights, run with a rough crowd, but it was true that he always had the biggest heart of anyone Hannibal ever knew.

His fingertips brush his slightly stubbled jawline as he feels his brother comb through his long hair. As some of his hair got shaved away due to the surgery on his brain, the hair was choppy and uneven at some places. “Perhaps I changed then. I am not sure what the fuck happened to me over who knows how long, but people change, Hannibal. I am sure you have changed from when we were together and whatever happened between then and now.” He can feel the comb brush against the back of his neck. And looking at all those scars scattered through his torso, he didn’t need Hannibal to tell him that he used to get into fights a lot. 

With the comb, Hannibal parts his brother’s hair in long sections and begins to cut. He would’ve been more nervous about it, but it was something he did for Nigel when they were young and poor. As if on autopilot, his ingers remember the motions his mind has forgotten. “I’m sure I’ve changed too. It’s inevitable.” He’s more than changed and he knows it. A completely different man than the boy he was. Sighing, he combs through the new layers, realizing that for the first time in decades he’s more himself with Nigel than he’s been since the breakup. Despite the difficulties, he doesn’t feel the weight of the veil. 

Keeping his posture straight as he watches Hannibal works in sections and layers, his brother’s hands work his hair like if the other had been cutting his hair for all of his life. “Have you been cutting my hair when we were young? I can feel that this isn’t your first time.” He can feel his conscious starting to slip away. “Yeah, like you said, people change. No matter what other fuckers say, we have inveterate and intrinsic qualities, but I think environment and people around us change us.” His voice trails off and his head starts to nod as he dozes. 

A smile pulls at his lips as he trims around Nigel’s ears. “I do seem to recall doing this when we were young. You even cut my hair sometimes.” Noticing his brother’s lids growing heavy, he finishes up. Kneeling before Nigel, he slices off the ends of his long bangs, careful to leave just enough to frame his lovely hazel eyes. He’d miss seeing his brother push them away from his face if he didn’t have them. Moving to stand behind him, he musses his damp hair to let the layers fall into place. “Of course our environment changes us,” he sighs, “But who we are inside, our core, is immovable.” Curling his broad hands around Nigel’s shoulders, he gives them a gentle rub. “You’re all set. I hope it’s okay.”

“Mmm… They’re still on the long side.” His eyes barely open as he slants his eyes, looking at the mirror and feeling the long locks drape over his cheek. “Yeah, I like it.” He roughly runs his hands over his hair and musses them up even further, shaking his head to arouse himself. A low hum fluttering out as he stands, he removes the towel around his waist and walks over to the walk in closet to put on his boxer briefs with his usual swagger. “I’m about ready to pass out, aren’t you?” He flops down on Hannibal’s bed, crossing his arms over his head and lays on his back, immediately shutting his eyes. 

Fingers combing a few long strands down Nigel’s neck, he hums. “Good. I think it looks better. I can see more of your face now.” He glances at his brother’s reflection in the mirror. He looks even more like he did when they were young. Smiling at seeing the two of them together, he notices the dark circles under his own eyes. “Yes. I’m exhausted too. It’s hitting me hard all of a sudden.” He pulls the sash from around his waist and lets the robe fall from his shoulders. Crawling into bed next to Nigel, he curls up next to him. With a heavy sigh lifting his chest, he drapes an arm over his brother’s waist. His eyes close as he nuzzles close in Nigel’s neck. Breathing deep, he can still smell his familiar scent over the warm sandalwood from the shower.

Rubbing his heavy lids as he brushes his fingertips against the long locks and feeling Hannibal curl up against his side, Nigel drapes one of his arms over his brother’s shoulder, pulling him close. Wiggling to get closer to Hannibal’s body as he pulls the blanket over them with his foot, another arm pulls his brother’s waist and inches closer against the other’s warm body. Turning his head as his head rolls against Hannibal’s shoulder, he inhales deeply as he smells Hannibal’s musky scent along with the sandalwood. “Mmm, you smell good.” Angling his body so that his face tugs against the crook of Hannibal’s neck, he takes a long inhale once again before deeply falling asleep. 

Nigel’s warm body feels so good against his. Even more like home than when they were making love. Something about simply laying beside him ready to sleep is so soothing and familiar. It’s a feeling he’d tried to summon countless times as he lay in bed alone, clutching his pillow. Never successfully. No matter how hard he tried, he’d still end up feeling empty and even more alone. But now he finally had the real thing. So perfect, so sublime, he almost regrets the fatigue seeping into his mind. Still, it’s pure bliss. Like a child rocked it his mother’s arms. Contentment without a care for anything but the one who’s holding him. He hums as Nigel inches closer. His long fingers curving around his waist to pull him closer still. 

Brushing his cheek against the other’s, he exhales a trembling breath. His broad hand strokes the back of Nigel’s head. “Shh… Go to sleep, dear brother.” Resting his head against his brother’s, he dwells in the feel of his heart beating against his chest. Feeling Nigel’s warm breath steady, he kisses his forehead as he sleep. Whispering, “I love you.” Exhaling a soft sigh, he settles his head on the pillow, nose to nose with his brother., Soon, he drifts off to sleep.


	4. A Shocking Revelation in Paris

The flight from Baltimore to Paris had taken them roughly eleven hours, as they had a layover of an hour and half in New York and had taken seven hours and half to get to Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. Arriving at their hotel and dropping their carry on bags, Nigel feels slightly worn out, but nevertheless refreshed after sleeping inside the airplane for quite a bit. 

“So, where are we going, Hannibal?” His pronounced cheekbone are flushed red, as biting wind had been at his face and his lithe and slender body. “I fucking hate winter and I even hate it more now that I am so thin.” He pulls a thicker sweater that he borrowed from Hannibal’s wardrobe and begins to change. 

Hannibal looks out the large picture window, smiling wistfully at the view of the Eiffel Tower and the still familiar streets below. “I thought we might need a little break after our flight before we headed out. We have dinner reservations for later, but I…” Just then a knock comes at the door. 

A porter enters wheeling a cart with champagne and fresh fruit. Croissants in a basket.” “Merci beaucoup,” he offers, handing the man a generous tip before he leave. Unscrewing the wire from the champagne, he smiles at Nigel. “I thought we could use some refreshments with our downtime.” With a loud pop, the cork comes off in his hand. Filling two flute, he hands one to his brother. “Welcome to Paris, Nigel. Or I suppose, welcome back.”

The view out the window is definitely very picturesque as the sun sets, the clear sky painted in shades of red and orange. As if a painter brushed a paint stroke over the whole sky. 

Pulling off the thin sweater over his head, Nigel puts one of Hannibal’s loose fit sweater and it definitely looks bigger on his svelte frame, the wide collar making the sweater to slide off of his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. “Sounds good, I’m fucking starved.” Grabbing the stem of the glass and lifting it up to gesture a toast, he rolls the loose sleeves up his elbow and grabs a croissant. “Well, I don’t remember living here at all, but I guess hello Paris.” He guzzles down the champagne and wipes his lips. 

Lifting his glass, Hannibal returns the toast before taking a long sip. Tilting his head, his eyes linger on the smooth curve of Nigel’s neck. Sweeping his fingers over the bare skin, a sigh lifts his chest. “We can get you some things that fit you better while we’re here. But I have to admit, I like being able to see your shoulders.” 

Looking at his brother, it’s hard to believe they’re finally back in Paris together. “Thank you again for agreeing to come. It means a lot to me.” He groans faintly as he sits down on the bed and kicks off his shoes. Leaning back on his arms, he smiles as he watches Nigel dig into the food.

Taking a big bite of the croissant, the flaky pastry sticks to his dry lips. Sitting on the foot of the bed and pulling the cart closer to where he’s sitting, Nigel grabs a few fistful of grapes from the weaved basket next to another platter of fruit and begins to pop them inside his mouth. “I am constantly feeling tired and famished. And while we’re at it, I want to get a thicker coat, perhaps a bomber or parka. Something really thick.” He takes off his heavy boots and leans against the footboard. “When is the reservation again?” 

Pulling up his sleeve, Hannibal checks his watch. “Not for another two hours. We have time to do some shopping if you want. But if you’re tired maybe a short nap would be better.” Moving behind Nigel, he rubs his shoulders, thumbs working the knots. “It was a long flight. I wouldn’t mind one myself.” His long fingers pull the hair from the side of his brother’s neck. Brushing his face against his warm skin, he hums faintly. “Just sleep. And hold you if that’s alright.”

Stuffing his mouth with the rest of the croissant and emptying the champagne glass, Nigel’s chest rises and falls slowly as Hannibal rubs his tense shoulder. “Mmm… That feels nice.” His eyes close as he relaxes against his brother’s firm and strong touch, the pressure loosening him up. “Perhaps just a short one, maybe a half an hour. I want to walk outside before we head to that restaurant.” 

Feeling his brother’s warm skin, a guttural hum slips out. His hand gently brushing Hannibal’s thigh. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You can hold me if you want.” A languid sigh flutters out as he lays on the bed on his side, curling his legs. “J-just for thirty minutes.” 

Tugging his sweater over his head, his dark hair falls softly over his eyes. Hannibal unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt before crawling up the bed to lay beside Nigel. Spooning behind him, he wraps an arm over his narrow waist. He sighs, nuzzling into his brother’s long hair. 

“Just a half an hour will be perfect.” Reaching for Nigel’s hand, he holds it gently. Just as the night before, the feel of his brother warm and close against him soothes him completely. But this time he’s not willing to surrender to sleep. All he wants to do is close his eyes and drift in their togetherness. 

The loose sweater falls gingerly against the firm mattress of the king sized bed and a stripe of his waist exposes just above his dark washed jeans. One of his arm propping his head, Nigel leans against Hannibal’s broad frame as he feels his brother’s cheek brush against his dry hair. The other arm brushing against his thin waist as Hannibal’s hand wraps around, the loose boatneck collar slides off his shoulder. 

“Wake me up after half an hour, I want to see the Eiffel Tower before then. It’d be beautiful against the night sky.” His voice starts to trail off as his breathing slows down, almost instantly falling asleep as his head falls against his propped arm. 

“Of course. We’ll go right by it on our way to dinner. We can even walk from there.” Settling his head into the pillow, Hannibal listens to Nigel’s breathing. His own becoming synchronized. As his brother stills, he gently leans up. Nigel looks so much better than he did even a few weeks ago. Not just healthier, but more relaxed, less troubled. He looks more like Hannibal’s dear brother. 

Gingerly pushing a lock from his forehead, he studies his face as if he were looking at a masterpiece. Every shadow, every line just where it should be. Laying back down on the bed, he pulls Nigel closer. “Sleep well,” he whispers.

Eventually, Nigel stirs, moving his arm, which had been lodged between his head and the pillow on his abdomen and turning to his back. His face looking more tranquil and peaceful than ever, his chest rises as he takes a long exhale, his head rolling against the other shoulder, facing Hannibal. 

In his short dream, he remembers limping his way back to the apartment, with his thick jacket missing, bleeding from his forehead and littered with bruises on his arms. Bits of cuts littered around his shoulder and left arm. The image of fresh snow and his blood drop onto it, dissipating and permeating into the crystals. 

Stirring as Nigel rolls over, Hannibal realizes he’d begun to drift off. He blinks his eyes open. A languid smile curls his lips as he sees his brother’s face. Fingers ghosting over the curve of his cheek, he reminisces about waking up with him every day when they were young. He’d almost always wake before Nigel. Many days he’d sketch, but often he’d just lay close and watch him sleep. Even pretend that he’d been sleeping when his brother finally roused. 

Feeling his emotions rising, he swallows a lump in his throat. His voice is a faint whisper. “Almost time to wake up, my love. But I’m going to wait until the last second. Watching you sleep is a gift too precious to waste.”

His brow slightly furrows as Nigel tries to piece together some fragments that he had dreamed. Fading to black as the blood drops over and over on the same spot, the crimson red blending and radiating against the melted snow and spreads to take over his whole peripheral view. He feels his head spill thick and sleek blood around his skull in a heart shape. He is still not fully out of it, unconscious. He could still feel the dense liquid wet the back of his head and smell the thick metallic and fishy scent permeating the air around him. His shoulder lurches slightly as he wakes up, his eyes immediately opening up as his face jerks against the pillow. “Oh fuck..” 

It’s clear that Nigel is having a bad dream. His serene expression replaced by something more troubled. Eyes soft, Hannibal strokes his shoulder, trying to quiet him. “Shhh…” A rush of adrenaline shoots to his heart as Nigel wakes suddenly. Immediately, he pulls his brother in a tight hug. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Smoothing his hand over the back of Nigel’s hair, he rests his forehead against his brother’s. “It’s okay, Nigel. It was a dream.” Lifting Nigel’s chin with a finger, he gazes into his eyes warmly. “It was a dream. You’re safe.”

His hand instinctively and almost unconsciously reach for the back of his head as his body turns to face Hannibal’s. Nigel gasps softly and slightly retracts from the touch, but as his wide-blown hazel eyes gaze at his brother’s, he blinks slowly and lets out a soft sigh. He can feel the slightly raised edge of his scar on the back of his head as his fingertips brush over his scalp. 

“Oh god, fuck… All I saw was blood, my blood on the snow and the fucking headshot.” His chest fluttering as he feels his heartbeat slightly elevated than normal, he holds Hannibal’s hand and opens his eyes, a bit of sleep still in his eyes. “Yeah, I know, it was nothing more a fucking dream.” 

Seeing the shock in Nigel’s eyes, a faint tremor runs through him. A picture he’d imagined many times stills in his mind. Feeling his eyes grow liquid, he swallows hard. “I’m sure memories coming back will be both a blessing and a curse.” Pulling the sweater up over Nigel’s shoulder, Hannibal exhales a hard breath. “I know you know better than anyone that it won’t be easy. For what it’s worth, I’m here for you.” Licking his dry lips, he forces a weak smile. 

Nigel shakes his head, the afterimage of the color that he never hopes to see ever again. “I have no fucking clue if I should fear or be terrified or be content and grateful for those.”

He combs through his locks and lifts his sweater, feeling a bit of warmth creeping up on his skin. He can feel the cold sweat run against the back of his neck and spine. “You don’t have to go through what I’m going through with me, I’m sure you’re suffering as whatever I have managed to forget with me getting shot.” Pursing his lips, he springs up, carelessly patting down his sticking up hair and puts on the peacoat. “We should go. I don’t wanna sour the fucking mood.” 

Sitting up in bed, Hannibal begins to button his shirt. “I don’t have to. I want to.” A vaguely exasperated sigh slips past his lips. “It’s not about what I’m going through. You’re the one who’s having to relearn everything about yourself.” 

Getting up quickly from the bed, he moves to stand in front of Nigel. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he tilts his head to capture his eyes. “Hey. You’re not souring anything. I want to be here for you. In whatever way I can help. If you need to be angry, be that. If you need to cry, then cry.” Placing a hand over his own heart, his breath trembles. “The only thing I want in the whole world right now is to be there for you.”

His forehead knits as he listens to Hannibal. His recurring thought and dream has been blood. Nigel is not sure if the events are all connected, or are separate events from different times in his life, but he would see lots of it. From his laceration on his side, the obvious headshot and his forehead bleeding and the blood covering his face. 

“Have you got any idea why I have been shot or got this fucking long and abominable scar? I have no fucking clue, except what I know physically. I know I got shot and someone dragged a fucking knife to gut me open, but I don’t know the means. And why did you take me to Paris? I’m sure some of these things are connected, I am unsure of lots of things, but I know for a fact that these are connected to somehow.” His head begins to ache again. 

Closing his eyes, Hannibal shakes his head. A lump lodges in his throat. He rubs his now aching head as tears push behind his eyes. “I’m not sure how you got the scar…” Pausing a long moment, he tries to steady himself. “But I do know about the shooting.” Exhaling a shuddering breath, he sits on the edge of the bed. 

Bending forward, he rakes his fingers through his dark hair. “If you want to talk about it, I’m prepared to tell you everything I know.” His eyes remain focused on his hands. Afraid of what might show if he looks at Nigel. Tears push free as he closes them.

Sitting on the edge of the bed as he buttons the coat up, Nigel’s eyes glint with interest. However painful or uneasy the revelation might make him, he would rather know the truth than to be clueless and vaguely assume what had happened to him. “Okay, forget about the fucking scar then, I would figure that out as time passes, perhaps I’d dream more about them to piece together more fragments, but do enlighten me about that fucking shooting.” Sitting closer to Hannibal, his thighs brush against the other’s. 

Still leaning forward, he turns his head, lifting his eyes to Nigel’s face. Face flush with tears, his lips tremble. “You- You were shot by a policeman. That’s what I was told.” He brushes the tears from his eyes. “I was also told that …” His head falls forward as he begins to softly gasp. It feels like a fist is squeezing his heart. 

When he turns back to look at Nigel, his face is wet with tears. “You incited the shooting. … They told me that you provoked it as part of a suicide attempt.” 

His hazel orbs grow double in size and shakes as Nigel unwavering and shocked gaze lands against Hannibal’s eyes. “Shot by a policeman, so what I thought was true, my torso fucking littered with scars and everything… I was a fucking criminal then.” He clutches his head and groans. “So I had the gun? Did I shoot that fucking police officer? If I was ever in my right fucking mind, then why the fuck would I try to kill myself?” His brows furrow even deeper than before, suddenly feeling hot, he roughly takes off his coat and throws it over the mattress. 

Lips pursed, Hannibal shakes his head. His voice weak with heavy breath. “No. You didn’t shoot any policeman. You weren’t even holding your gun.” He wants so much to reach over and comfort Nigel. The only thing that holds him back is the question he knows is going to come. Taking a deep breath, he sits up straight and turns his body to face his brother. “You wrote me a letter before it happened … about being unhappy. You never sent it, but I was given it with your things.” 

Nigel shakes his head. A stupid question, really. If he had shot that police officer, then he would’ve not sitting with his brother in a hotel in Paris. He’d be incarcerated for life in jail. Hannibal’s word only confirms the fact that he really had wanted to effectively and surely commit suicide by cop. His head shakes even more frantically, as he fails to connect all the things. 

“A letter? What letter? If I was merely unhappy, then I’m sure there were some other more subtle and not so dramatic solution of overcoming it. It must have been something intolerable or unbearably painful thing that happened to me?” His voice begins to escalate as his hand grabs Hannibal’s collar. His clenched fist shaking as he tugs his brother closer to him. “Tell me, what the fuck happened to me?” 

Sobbing as Nigel grabs his collar, he doesn’t even try to resist. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he presses his hand to his forehead. “I-I’ll show you…. You can ask me anything you want after you read it. It’s about time you knew the truth.” From his carry-on bag, he pulls the letter out. Much more worn that when he’d received it due to his constant re-reading. It’s wrinkled and faded with tears. 

“Here. This is what you wrote to me.” His breath shudders as he moves to sit in a chair across from the bed. His head hangs long, afraid to watch Nigel’s reaction.

Literally snatching the worn and wrinkled letter from Hannibal’s hand, Nigel reads it over and rereads it. 

\---

To. Hannibal.

Guess what, I’m fucking done with you. I can’t live like this anymore. No matter what kind of fucked up shit happens to me, at the end of the day, I can’t shake off my heart’s content for the fact that I am desperately and hopelessly in love with my twin, brother, the best friend and the one and only fucking lover I’ve had in my entire life. 

I am fading miserably and spiralling down into a bottomless pit. I’ve tried to love Gabi and I have loved her with all of my heart, but it simply wasn’t the same. How we couldn’t get our hands off of each other’s, I still remember those times you had snuck out of work so that I could have you. There is a lump in my throat I just can’t get down. More than often I want to rip my fucking heart out so that I don’t feel the throbbing ache when it comes to thinking about you. So many mirrors have been shattered and broken, myriads of cuts and injuries already happened. I am trashed. 

Whatever happens to me, whenever we end up meeting, whether in this life or next, just don’t let me go and no matter how fucking difficult it gets, don’t fucking give up on me like every fucking one has in my life. You know my weaknesses, you hold the keys to them, but hold my strengths. Love me til my last fucking breath and I promise I’m all yours, til forever ends.

I love you and miss you, so fucking much. I hope you feel the same way about me. So many tears and blood have been spilled and I can’t deal with this anymore. 

\----

It is practically a suicide note telling his brother that he will kill himself. A stream of tears bathe his cheekbone as he’s sure Hannibal’s tears have been soaking through the flimsy paper. “Who the fuck is Gabi and if… If I was in Paris with you before, why am I writing this letter like decades after?” Pushing more tears away from his closed lids, Nigel springs up from the bed and roughly pushes Hannibal against the back of the chair. “I know how much blood I have fucking shed, I’ve seen it in my dreams, but tears? What the fuck have you done to me, hm?” His hand wraps around his brother’s neck. 

Holding his face in his hands, he collapses into sobs. It’s as if he can’t bear to see, to hear, any of it. They had come so far in renewing their relationship. Now he’s reliving his guilt all over again, twofold. Losing Nigel a second time. Loud sobs burst forth as his brother pushes him back in the chair. As Nigel takes him by the throat, his wide, tearful eyes lift. 

He gasps for breath, trying to speak through his tears. “I fucking loved you.” His eyes clench shut. His whole body shaking with sobs. “I fucking loved you, Nigel. And you loved me. … And- and I’m the reason why we broke up in spite of that. … In spite of the fact that we were meant to be together. … I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

More fat tears roll down from his trembling eyelids as he growls in anger, lifting Hannibal by a forceful grab on his airway. “Get your fucking ass up and cancel that fucking reservation. I’m not fucking done with whatever this is.” His eyes glint, his old self coming back as he backs his brother against the mattress. “A past fucking tense, Hannibal. We /loved/ each other, but in that fucking letter I sound like I still love you. Did you ever feel the same way as I did, or did you move on as if nothing had happened?” He throws a hard jab across his brother’s jaw, just under the ear. “Sorry? I get fucking shot in the head and I could’ve died! Then what would you have done, huh?” 

Falling back hard on the mattress, Hannibal grabs his jaw. A pained cry sounds through his sobbing. “I still fucking love you, goddammit! Why am I here? Why have I been with you every second of every day! Because I fucking moved on! No …” He pressed his fingers against his swollen eyes. “I tried to kill myself only a short while before you did.” His hand trembling, he weakly reached for Nigel. “I would never want you dead. … If- If you’d died that day, I’d be dead too. The only thing that’s ever kept me hanging on is the hope that we’d be together again.”

“Fucking guilt or remorse, that’s fucking what!” Forcefully pulling Hannibal up, Nigel tightly grabs Hannibal’s collar by his trembling fist as he bathes in more tears, backs his brother roughly against the wall opposite the bed. “You were the one to break up then, from that letter I supposedly wrote, there’s no single fucking reason why I would be the one to call everything off. If you still love me and if I was dead, you’d kill yourself, but why did you abandon me?” 

His lips are only merely a half an inch away from Hannibal’s, squeezing the other’s throat hard enough to bruise. “It said I was trashed. Why did you fucking leave me like a piece of fucking trash?” 

Hannibal pushes Nigel back with a hard shove, driving him onto the bed and pinning him down on his back. “I never said you were trash, goddammit. I never thought you were. It killed me to fucking leave. It still kills me every fucking day.” Gripping his brother’s wrists, he pushes them down hard into the bed. “Look at me. Do you think I don’t love you? Do you really believe that?” Collapsing on Nigel’s chest, his sobbing returns. “I only left because I had to. … It was that or risk something terrible happening to you. Jail or worse. … You’re not the only criminal in the family. I had to run. I couldn’t take you.” 

Backing off as Hannibal pushes him away hard, Nigel tumbles and flops hard onto the mattress, almost getting winded by the blow. As he had gotten thinner, he tries his best to free from the hold as he grits his teeth, his eyes glassy and bleary, but still unwavering and glowering at his brother. His lips curving downward as he continues to wiggle free of Hannibal’s hold, he turns his face away from his brother and squeezes his tears out. 

“Yes, fuck! I still can feel you fucking love me.” His chest hammers so much and beats so rapidly that he can feel the dull throb to his head, the strong and frantic beat undulating through his whole body. “We-we are fucking screwed up, aren’t we? I must’ve fucking killed other people, too then.” Suddenly feeling more enervated than before, he dissolves in more tears, a burst of them spilling down as he weeps. 

Wrapping his arms around Nigel’s neck, his heart pounds in his chest. Seeing Nigel cry forces him to recall the day he left Paris and how destroyed his little brother was. How much he’d wanted to hold him and never let him go. It almost feels as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for. Trying to relive his whole life so he could do the right thing. 

“Just hold me. … We’ve always needed each other, and we need each other now. … I never meant to hurt you. I love you so much. … “ Lifting his head, he wiped the tears from Nigel’s cheek. “I failed you in so many ways. But I never stopped loving you. We’re not screwed up. We’re just screwed up without each other.”

His arm continues to tremble, even though Hannibal puts his arm around his neck. As if he’s transfixed and pinned permanently against the mattress, he cannot move his limbs until his arms glide against the duvet. Holding his brother’s waist and pulling it closer to his body, he sniffs, feeling his chest flutter uncontrollably as he almost wheezes. 

“Outside of all the fucking physical injuries I have suffered, you gave me the most excruciating pain I can go through ever, why do you think I went to this fucking extreme to end my fucking life? It sounds like I thought of you whatever the fuck I did every day. At work, home, wherever you name it.” He lifts his head and clashes his lips against Hannibal’s, deepening the kiss. “We still have time to make it to that fucking restaurant. It is out birthday and I want a nice dinner.” 

As Nigel pulls him close, the heaviness in his chest begins to subside. He can hear the warmth in his brother’s voice, despite his harsh words. Sniffing away his tears, his dark eyes hover over Nigel’s soft hazel. He presses his full lips against his brother’s, welcoming the kiss as a sign of a new start. With each second that passes, he feels their connection grow. Parting reluctantly, he smiles weakly at Nigel’s suggestion. “Of course. We need to celebrate.”


	5. En Route to the Restaurant

As the taxi stops near the Eiffel Tower, Hannibal squeezes Nigel’s hand. “This is it. The restaurant is just around the corner. We still have time to do some sightseeing.” Stepping out of the car, he clutches his collar closed. A chilling wind sweeps his hair back. Reaching through the door, he offers Nigel his hand as he glances up at the lights on the Tower. “It’s really beautiful at night. I think you’ll be surprised how big it really is when you see it up close.”

Nigel squeezes Hannibal’s hand back as he follows suit, walking behind, then catches up with his brother. His long locks keep poking at his eyes as a strong gust sends his hair all over the place. Slightly shuddering as the wind blows inside his peacoat, he thinks he might need a scarf or more thick sweater underneath what he’s wearing now. “I wonder if we can go up there when it isn’t so fucking cold. Damn, I should’ve gotten more thicker clothes.” 

Wrapping an arm around Nigel’s shoulder, Hannibal pulls him close against his side. “We’ll definitely get you something warmer tomorrow. It’s far colder than I’d expect this time of year.” Pointing up near the top of the tower, he smiles. “We can get up to about that far if I recall. Definitely something to do when the sun is out.” As he looks at Nigel’s wind-chapped face, he remembers a snowball fight around the legs of the Tower. They were so cold by the time they made it back home, they slept with their clothes on under every blanket they owned. 

Putting both of his hands inside the pocket, Nigel presses his body against Hannibal’s side and back as his arm links against Hannibal’s, Nigel rakes his unruly hair and tries to tame it as more gust blows against his side. “Yeah, definitely when the sun is out, although it’d be much cool if it was dark too. Just not today when it’s so fucking cold.” Glancing at other people walk around as the Eiffel Tower comes more into his view, he looks up at the lighted tower, which begins to sparkle. “I wonder how heavy this fucking thing is.” 

Chuckling, he shakes his head and smiles. “I guarantee you if we come back tomorrow there will be at least a half dozen people who can’t wait to answer that question.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he tugs Nigel by the arm. “Come on. I don’t want you to freeze to death. Certainly not on your birthday.” Leading his brother down the busy street lit with gas lamps, he watches his face as he takes it all in. Although it had been decades since he’d been in Paris, seeing it through Nigel’s eyes is much more interesting.

“Oh, I’m sure there are fucking nerds like that, studying tourist attractions like tour guides before coming to see the actual thing in person.” He begins to stride in quick steps as he lifts his shoulders, trying to prevent his face and neck to at least get less affected by the wind. “I am not going to fucking die on my birthday, how ironic.” Playfully rolling his eyes as his eyes glance at literally every store they pass, he wonders what his life in Paris in his adolescent years was like. “Tell me something we did in Paris.” 

Walking in measured steps, he glances down at his feet.. A broad smile on his face. “You always had a motorcycle. … Or I guess a moped at first. We didn’t live right here in the city, but not far.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes drifting over Nigel’s face. “We’d ride together on it. Me hanging on for dear life usually. Sometimes we wouldn’t even have a destination in mind.” Leaning against his brother’s shoulder, he recalls the feel of his arms wrapped tight around his slender waist. “Still, it was always the best time. We’d come home all worked up from the fresh air and …” Instead of finishing, he just shakes his head. His eyes smiling as well as his lips. “... and it was just wonderful.” 

A faint smile plasters on his face as his lips curve, feeling his pronounced cheekbones throb with cold. His dry skin flushed with deep pink and he rubs his face with the sleeves. “Sounds like I was a very reckless and spontaneous kid. You weren’t pavid when you were on the moped riding with me, were you? You don’t sound like it.” He wonders if he had ridden a motorcycle then. He wraps his arm around Hannibal’s lean waist and sticks his hand inside Hannibal’s wool coat, the smile widening as he watches Hannibal’s reaction. “What? Don’t fucking trail off and tell me what happened.” 

“No. I wasn’t really scared.” The color of his wind flushed cheeks deepens as Nigel wraps his arms around him. His smile now a grin. Raising his shoulders in a faint shrug, he shakes his head. Eyes wide in a poor attempt at looking innocent. “I told you what happened. I told you it was wonderful.” A smirk tilts his lips. Pulling Nigel close against him, he brushes his cheek against his jaw, breathing warm on his neck. “It was always wonderful when we made love.”

“Yeah, it must have fucking wonderful when we fucked each other. I gathered.” Nigel mischievously smirks and swats Hannibal’s ass as he takes his hand out from Hannibal’s coat pocket. “Did we do it against the moped, so to speak?” His arm wraps around Hannibal’s waist again as he tugs his brother closer. “Hm, it feels like if we were on moped and did the things, then I wonder what would happen if you ever got me that damned motorcycle. Given as I continued to drive before I got shot in the head, then I should be able to, right?” He nuzzles his flushed cheek against his brother’s hair. 

Catching himself in a full, toothy grin, he lowers his eyes demurely. Still, his face beams under Nigel’s attention. “Oh, we pretty much did /it/ everywhere.” Pushing his hips against Nigel’s as his brother pulls him close, he watches the wind move his hair all about his face. Hannibal bites his lip, smiling. “I’m sure if you had a motorcycle it would all come back to you.” Combing a lock of hair around Nigel’s ear, he sighs. “We can talk about it when we get home if you like.” Nigel’s affectionate touches make him immune to the cold. Everything feels so warm and so right.

Mussing his brother’s hair as he runs his fingers, his fingertips scratch Hannibal’s scalp. “Sounds like our concupiscence were brimming to the fullest. Any place that was especially memorable to you?” Amused, but not being able to recall any more than what he remembers about what they did in their small bed somewhat frustrates him. “And I’m sure not only the technical skills will come back, but you’d think I would remember us fucking on the bike? Possibly.” Pulling Hannibal close to him and turning the other to face him, he gently kisses his brother on the lips. “I think I want to talk about it when we get to the restaurant.” 

Rolling his neck, he closes his eyes, leaning into Nigel’s playful touch. “Mm. They were all memorable.” His dark eyes glint with mischief under the street lights as he recalls how many times they’d had sex against mopeds and motorcycles. A stream of breath crystallizes in the cold air as he parts his lips to meet Nigel’s kiss. The feel of it is still so new, his heart flutters. Licking his lips, he stares at his brother’s mouth. He swallows hard. His eyes bright with excitement. “Be prepared for many details. I haven’t forgotten much of anything.” 

He can feel his chest lift as his heart rate increases. The cold air that he exhales visible to his eye as he breaths, so close from his brother’s face. “Just how many fucking times did we do the fucking do? Sounds like we were insatiable towards each other.” His eyes transfixed against his brother’s lips, his thumb glides over the other’s lower lip. “Mm, can’t fucking wait. I love details. Dirtier the better. Now, where is that fucking restaurant? I am rather feeling starving, if you know what I mean.” Putting his hand inside Hannibal’s pants pocket in the back, his hand squeezes his brother’s ass. 

Snaking an arm just under Nigel’s coat, he pulls him close by the waist, his broad hand slipping under the too big sweater. His heavy lidded eyes sweep over his brother’s face as if trying to take it all in. “That’s a more than fair description. I lost count after the first few weeks.” His breath trembles as Nigel gently strokes his lip. Rolling his hips, he groans faintly at is brother’s next words. As Nigel reaches around to squeeze his ass, he presses against him. His cock hard against his thigh. Panting softly in his ear, he runs his cheek against his brother’s. “You always did make me fucking crazy, Nigel.” Cupping the back of his neck, he surges into a passionate kiss. 

Hannibal’s broad and warm hand literally burns into his cool skin underneath the loose sweater. Tugging hard as his front contacts against his brother’s, Nigel takes his hand out from the back pocket and wraps his arm around the other’s waist. Immediately feeling Hannibal’s erection, he strokes the outline with the other hand. “Of course, you’re so fucking hard. I don’t know what I did there, but how do I make you so fucking crazy, Hannibal?” His head sticks out as he whispers against his brother’s ear. Groping his lips against Hannibal’s as he tightly presses and grinds the other’s erection, he reciprocates the intense kiss, devouring his brother’s lips. Parting from the kiss and pulling at Hannibal’s lips, he sultrily smirks and pushes his brother’s back. “Lead the fucking way.” 

A smirk curls Hannibal’s lips. “I have a better idea.” He glances around furtively and takes Nigel by the wrist, pulling him just a few feet back down the sidewalk into a narrow alleyway. With a soft grunt, he pushes him against a wall. Pressing his body against Nigel’s, he nuzzles inside his coat and kisses his defined collarbone. Peppering more soft kisses up his neck, his voice is broken with ragged pants. “I remembered this alley just as we passed by. ..” He rolls his hips forward, rubbing his clothed erection against his brother’s. “Ahh … it was one of the places that you used to fuck me when we were young.” Grabbing Nigel’s ass, he pulls him closer. A faint whimper sounds in his breath. “I always wanted you so much.”

Feeling the brick wall, a bit rough and graveled against his clothed back, the loose sweater falls easily against his shoulder as Hannibal pecks soft kisses. His neck becoming more taut as he stretches it, he looks downward at his brother and wraps his arm over the other’s neck. Rubbing his cheek against Hannibal’s dark hair, his hands begins to undo his brother’s pants. “And as it seems, Paris doesn’t change too fucking often then.” His chest beginning to expand more rapidly and strongly, he grinds his hips against Hannibal’s as he feels his erection get rock hard. “Then fucking have me where I took you in the past. I don’t have to ask that’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”

Nigel’s breath feels so warm and inviting against his skin. His scent, his soft, long hair brushing against Hannibal’s cheek, it all envelops him in sweet deja vu.. Immediately, he’s consumed by a burning need. Just as when they were young, nothing could stop him when his desire broke free of his tenuous grasp. Pressing his forehead against Nigel’s, he pants against the other’s lips at feeling hands pulling his pants open. Swallowing a lumps in his throat, his heart races in his chest. “Ahh … Oh fuck, It’s what I want.” His deft fingers make quick work of tugging his brother’s loose jeans over his narrow hips. Sticking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, he pushes them down, easing them forward as they hook over Nigel’s hard as steel cock. He cups the other low, pressing his warm palm over the shaft, his fingers gently stroking the velvety sac. Dragging his wet lips across Nigel’s cheek, he moans softly. “I want to see you. I want your legs around me.” He pushes the jeans down to the ground with his foot, allowing Nigel to step out of them.

Feeling the heat creep up on the surface of his skin as he undoes Hannibal’s pants and pulls the underwear off, he can feel his brother’s erection pop out, already rock hard against his hand. Watching his exhales turning into a visible white puff, their breaths mingle together as his eyes flutter close. Pushing his brother’s pants and underwear down to the other’s knees, he feels the cold air sweep through his bare legs as his cock exposes against it. Groaning out as he feels his cock twitch as his brother’s hand strokes his balls and shaft, his breathing flutters and his legs shake with a surge of arousal building down in his lower abdomen. Stepping out of his jeans which pool around his ankles, kicking them off to the side, he wraps his legs around Hannibal’s waist and grinds against his brother’s cock, feeling it go over his tight entrance. 

The rush of cold air over his weeping cock makes him shiver. Broad hands cupping Nigel’s bare ass, he groans. Lifting him. he guides his thighs to wrap inside his warm coat around the narrowest part of his waist. His chest heaving with breath, he presses Nigel’s back hard against the wall, letting his weight hold him in place. His long fingers on his brother’s forehead, he pushes the hair from his heavy-lidded eyes. His own dark eyes wide and hungry. “Oh fuck …” Shifting his weight, he inches Nigel’s forward with a hand at the small of his back. A gasp of chilled breath bursts from his parted lips. “Ahh.. Oh fuck.” Locking his gaze on the other’s, he rocks his hips slow, easing through the tight rim. Pursing his trembling lips, his heart flutters wildly. His eyes slip closed as Nigel’s warm, tight walls begin to open up. The feel of it sends Hannibal spiraling. His mind reels with bliss, both present and remembered.

His heavily lidded eyes flutter close as he feels the rush of cold air sweep through him once more. “Fuck…. It’s so fucking cold.” Hannibal’s warm hands burn and make impression on his narrow ass. Panting and puffing already as his intense arousal undulates through his lithe body, his open peacoat covers the upper part of his ass as it begins to ride up. When his eyes open back up, they are slightly glassy, but very intense and fiery. His head rolls against the brick wall behind him as he watches their chilled breathing quicken and his heart hammers through his rib cage. “I need you… Fuck.. Ahh!” His glutes instantly squeeze as Hannibal pushes through, his tight walls opening up and every ring of muscle clenches around the thick length. The first penetration takes his breath away. Clenching his eyes shut and gasping against Hannibal’s neck, his arm tightly wraps around Hannibal’s neck, the other one circling around his brother’s broad back under the wool coat. 

Burying his face inside the collar of Nigel’s coat, he wraps an arm around his back. Puffs of white breath stream from his lips as he inches in deeper. “Oh god, Nigel …” A sharp gasp pushes from his chest as his cock drives in. fully sheathed. Trembling, he holds Nigel close, Squeezing his eyes shut, warm tears drip down his flush cheeks. “Oh god ....” Breathless, his fingers clutch at his brother’s coat.”You feel so good… I’ve dreamed about this ever since you came home with me.” Swallowing hard, he rocks his hips slowly. Every move, every inch of Nigel’s body is like a gift.

As Hannibal’s thick length fills him up, Nigel’s hand roughly tugs the back of his brother’s neck and dark soft strands. The pain of being filled with his brother is soon replaced by rippling pleasure as he hears the base of Hannibal’s cock and balls slap his ass. “Ahhh! fuck… “ He feels a fat drop of sweat trickle down from his temple and back, trailing down the lean spine as his body slides up against the wall. With each of Hannibal’s thrust, he desperately tries to match his brother, bouncing against the cock and squeezing his tight walls. Shuddering with bliss and stretch of his tight ring of muscles, his breathing trembles a hitch as he groans out wantonly. “W-why didn’t you fucking tell me?” Gasping, he clenches his fingers tight around Hannibal’s lapel and the back of the collar. 

“Fuck. You’re so hot and tight,” Slick easing his passage, he thrusts smoother, deeper. Nigel’s body envelops him with perfect friction, just as when they were young. Although it had been such a long time, and he’d had other lovers, no one ever felt as good as Nigel. They fit together so perfectly. Even after all the years, their bodies responded to one another’s as if no time had passed. Digging his fingers into his brother’s ass, he pulled him tight against his hips. Groaning, he rotated them slowly. Damp with sweat, his dark hair clings to his face. “Oh fuck…. Ahh …” A sob rattles his breath. “I wanted to tell you. … I didn’t want to push too hard.” Pressing his forehead to Nigel’s shoulder, he strokes deep, the tight rim hugging and clinging to his thick base. 

Smelling their arousal and Hannibal’s musky scent and sweat permeating the air around him, his cheek brushes against his brother’s dark hair. Once his tight walls stretch, his brother’s thick erection slides in and out easily, his rim tightly squeezing onto the base when Hannibal thrusts deep inside of him. His own cock begins to weep profusely against their pressed abdomen, over their sweaters. His loose sweater lifting and sliding upward as Hannibal drives his thrusts upward, he knows all-consuming orgasm is going to rip through his svelte body. “Ahh… fuck.. I’m close.” Feeling the veins throb on his thick cock, his hole continues to flutter as his brother’s tip kisses the sweet spot repeatedly. “Oh god… Fuck... “ With a hard tug of Hannibal’s hair as his abdomen constricts, he spurts dense ropes of cum all over their abdomen. 

Clenching his ass, his thighs tense as he dips his hips, moving in rolling strokes. His cock curves smoothly in and out of Nigel’s delicious heat. His tight abs contract rhythmically as waves of intense pleasure radiate from his core. Sweat streams down the back of his neck. Sliding his hand to the other’s nape, he gasps with each thrust. “Oh fuck, yes. Yes. …” Feeling Nigel’s walls clutch and throb impossibly tight, a sharp shudder shakes him. A loud sob burst from his open mouth as he slams into his brother. Hot cum streaming from his cock, he continues to thrust relentlessly. Filling his brother until it streams down his trembling legs. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck….”

Remembering what he had dreamed of the other day, the recollection coming true as he reels from his ardent and gripping orgasm, his head rolls against Hannibal’s cheek, breathlessly puffing chilled breaths as more cum shoots through their pressed bodies. His heavily lidded eyes gazing into his brother’s flushed face, he feels the other twin surge and filling him up with a heavy load. “Ahhh!! fuck..” His eyes clenched shut, his walls continues to gape and flutter as he pushes tears off from the corner of his eyes. The frantic thrusts sending his body into an overdrive. His ardent and fervent orgasm sends him into an euphoric bliss. He can feel his own slick and Hannibal’s warm cum trail down his hot walls. His warm breaths landing on his brother, his body begins to shiver uncontrollably, an undulating wave of coldness and continuing arousal clashing against him. 

Sliding his arm under Nigel’s ass, he wraps the other around his back. His broad hand holds the back of his brother’s head, protecting it from the rough brick wall. His heart thunders in his chest. Tendrils of orgasmic bliss reach all through his body, from his clutching fingers to his toes curled tight in his boots. Glassy eyed, he tilts his head, catching only glimpses of Nigel’s dreamy expressions. He can feel his brother’s heart beating as frantically as his. Hear the sweetness of his pleasured moans. As the cold wind seeps under his coat, he begins to tremble. “Oh god… Let me help you.” Gently lowering Nigel’s legs, he slips his jeans over his boots and quickly tugs them up. Gripping the collar of the peacoat, he pulls it tight around his brother’s neck before pulling on his own wool pants. He wraps Nigel in a tight hug, nuzzling into his neck. Still flush with the afterglow of their consuming orgasms, he pants softly. “Oh god. I missed that so much. So fucking incredible…. We nearly always did cum together. As if neither could stop once the other started. … I can feel your pleasure almost as much as my own.”

His chest hammering through his brain as he feels the frantic thumps throughout him, his body completely lax against Hannibal’s broader frame. Sliding on the ground, he can feel his fluid and his brother’s cum spill down his inner thigh. Watching Hannibal put his jeans, he combs his sweaty hair away from his cheek and forehead. Taking sharp inhales as his chilled face turns color as the sweat evaporates, he presses his face tightly against the crook of his brother’s neck. As soon as Hannibal puts his own pants up, he dreamily smiles as he closes his eyes, feeling his walls still fluttering and letting out his brother’s warm seed. “That was fucking exquisite. I’ve had the dreams of it over and over again and have wondered why I was so fucking hard in the mornings, I should’ve let you in my room and fucking suck me off or something. It was more blissful than I have imagined.” Cupping Hannibal’s cheek, he turns his own face and kisses his brother deeply. 

His eyes gently close as he drifts into the kiss. Pushing his full lips against Nigel’s, Hannibal feels more sated and complete than he can ever remember. Breathing with him. Feeling their tongues entwine. His heart flutters with love as much as desire. Their bond is growing. He senses it down to his bones, Pressing their foreheads together, he shakes his head weakly. Eyes closed, he licks his moist lips. “It was fucking exquisite. I’m - I’m still trembling.” He swallows hard, trying to calm his breath. Curving his hand around Nigel’s cheek, he brushes his lips with his thumb. His dark eyes hover over his brother’s. Searching, soft and wide. “I would love to come to your room any time you’d have me. My bed feels empty with you right next door. I’ve thought about asking you to share it. … It would just feel so good to hold you at night, and wake up with you.”

His shuddering dies out as he tightly presses his body against Hannibal’s. Parting from the kiss and merely about an inch away from the other’s face, Nigel can feel his brother’s warm breaths against his chin. His heartbeat slowly returning to normal, he can still feel Hannibal shaking. His slightly glassy eyes genuinely creasing as he smiles, his hand strokes the length of Hannibal’s spine. His brother’s thumb is soft and warm, unlike his slightly calloused and dry one. Smirking, he inches closer and whispers against Hannibal’s lips. “Actually, I meant to ask you before, but I wanted to wait until you mentioned it. Of course I’d fucking love to sleep with you on the same bed. I mean, that fucking bed is huge enough for both of us.” His hand grabbing the back of Hannibal’s neck, he gropes his lips against his brother’s and backs the other against the wall. 

His high cheeks plump as he grins at Nigel’s smirk. Dark eyes sweep across his brother’s face as if trying to capture every detail. Nigel’s words render him speechless a moment. All his lonely nights seemed to be coming to an end. Finally, after fighting to be patient and hold back his feelings. He can already picture it. Watching Nigel in the morning until he finally blinks his sleepy eyes open. Having his soft breath lull him to sleep at night. Faintly nodding, the only word he can muster is “yes” before Nigel’s lips lock on his. Parting his mouth wide, he groans, sweeping his tongue inside his brother’s. As his back hits the wall, his leg wraps around Nigel’s like a crawling vine. His fingers clutching his ashen hair, he pulls him close, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Gasping at the feel of his stiffening cock pressing against Nigel’s, he drags his lips across the other’s cheek. “I want to fuck you every day. Every fucking morning and night.”

His tongue immediately twirling and curving around Hannibal’s as he feels the other’s sweep inside his mouth, his head tilts frantically as he eagerly pushes his brother. Moving in a serpentine manner, he licks a broad stripe along Hannibal’s neck to taste him after he abruptly parts from the kiss. “Oh, you fucking wanted it so much, didn’t you? I can sense how much you fucking wanted this from happening.” His hand entwines with Hannibal’s as he drags his brother, pulling him off from the brick wall. “And I’d let you fuck me every single fucking day and night, given that you reciprocate and let me fuck you once in a while.” He teases as he brushes his hand on Hannibal’s ass. “Don’t want to be fucking late, do we?” He clicks his tongue and pushes his brother in front of him.


	6. At the Restroom inside the Restaurant

Nearly stumbling over one another, they enter the restaurant. Raking his hair back, he squeezes Nigel’s hand. “I’m sure we’re late, but I don’t fucking care.” A host takes their coats and guides them to a private table in the back. The room is lit with soft candlelight. Easing down in his chair across from his brother, he lays their still clasped hands on the table. “I don’t know about you, but I enjoy getting a little drunk on my birthday. I seem to recall you didn’t mind.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box and places it beside Nigel’s hand. “It’s really more a memento than a gift.” His smile broadens into a grin. “You’ll get your gift when we get back home.” His lashes flutter as he leans into Nigel’s neck. Humming, he brushes his lips against him. “Of course I’d be happy to start showering you with all kinds of wonderful things when we get back to the hotel.”

Easing out of the coat as he casually sits, Nigel flashes a soft smirk and looks into the candlelight. His hazel orbs growing bright as the light reflects from his pupils. “I don’t fucking mind at all, Hannibal. It’s our birthday, we should fucking celebrate. What would be our poison then, wine? whiskey? I don’t fucking care.” As he watches his brother place the box on his palm, he reciprocates the wide grin, his lips curving almost into a glasgow smile. “Aw, I should’ve fucking got you something if I knew today was our birthday.” His fingers fumble with the lid of the box. “May I? Or do you want me to open it later?” He tilts his head and lets Hannibal lean against him, his chin brushing against his brother’s dark hair. “I think you already have showered me enough with all kinds of wonderful things already.” He softly kisses Hannibal and diverts his attention to the menu the waitress brings to them.

Licking his lips, he sighs. His eyes glint with excitement as he looks at the box in Nigel’s hand. Although it’s unlikely that his brother will remember the pearls, it’s such a wonderful story he can’t help wanting to share it over and over. He nudges Nigel’s arm playfully. “I want you to open it now. C’mon. More presents later. I promise.” 

Nigel’s eyes are mischievous when he opens the black velvety box. Pearl necklace. “Mm, you want me to wear this? I thought pearl necklaces were for women.” He playfully pokes Hannibal’s side, but nonetheless tries the pearls on. “Well, how do I look?” The boatneck collar on his sweater already accentuating his defined collarbones, the pearls gingerly rests on his collarbones and goes down to where a bit of chest fluff is peeking out on the loose sweater.

His lips part with a silent gasp. Eyes wide, he shakes his head as if disbelieving. “My god. You look so much the same I can’t get over it.” He fingers the peals, his hand brushing against Nigel’s neck. “I guess I’m returning these to you.” Staring the iridescent beads in his fingers, he smiles wistfully. “I’ve kept them a long time. Ever since you brought them home one night when we were young. Our birthday just like today.” He beams as he lifted his eyes. “You said pretty much the same thing when I put them around your neck.” A finger tracing the lines on Nigel’s hand, he gazes at him with a sultry look in his eyes. A sigh liftsF his chest. “That was the first night we were together.” He closes his eyes a moment, remembering. “I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.” He chuckled faintly. “Or maybe hell. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I knew is that I wanted more of you. All the time.”

His fingers roll against each of the smooth pearl. “Oh yeah, I was very much lean and lithe, I remember from the drawings you have shown me, god, so fucking thin and looking like a fucking woman. I imagine I had alabaster skin like I do now.” His eyebrows raise as he spins the necklace against his neck. “What? I brought this one for you to wear? Why the fuck would I do that?” His hand brushes against Hannibal’s hand, gently cupping the back of the other’s hand. “So what you mean by ‘the first night,’ we were fucking for the first time. Who fucked who?” His eyes lusty as well, he moves his hand from Hannibal’s and brushes it against his brother’s thigh. “Of course you did, so I gather since then, you’ve started to draw me naked in the mornings?” 

Feeling a blush warm his cheeks, he lowers his eyes as the waitress approaches. He discretely moves his hand under the table to stroke Nigel’s thigh. “I think we need a few more minutes to decide, but a bottle of champagne would be perfect for now.” Nodding, he accepts her suggestion as to the brand. As soon as her back is to them, he turns his head away to muffle a laugh. “I thought she’d never leave.” His attention now fully on Nigel, he sighs once more. “I can tell you so many stories…. Mm. If you enjoy the dirty details, I have plenty. For now, I’ll just say that you fucked me that night. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.” His fingers move up Nigel’s leg and gently squeeze. “I still think about it all the time. You broke my world open. I was never the same after that. I craved you constantly. Your touch. Your lips, Oh god, your cock.”

The waitress comes and Nigel doesn’t even care, not even glancing at her a bit, his hand moves downward to Hannibal’s inner thigh and begins to knead the soft flesh. “So I brought pearls and I fucked you, hm, so I assume that was the first fuck you’d ever had?” Lifting his eyes as the waitress leaves, he covers Hannibal’s lap with the tablecloth and begins to unzip the pants. “Of course, I fucking enjoy all the filthy details. Save those for the hotel for me, when we get fucking sloshed, I’d want to hear about all of them.” Sticking his hand inside as he slowly brushes his fingers against his brother’s length, his lips curve in a smirk as he takes the cock out. “My touch, what about my lips on your cock? And I can fuck you inside the restroom. All the things you crave, yes?”

“Oh yes,” he answers, nearly exhaling the words. His hips rolling forward, his ass inches towards the edge of his seat. His throat dry with quickening breath, he licks his lips. “I’d love to whisper it all in your ear as we recreate some of the best moments.” His eyes softly close at the feel of Nigel’s fingers on his cock. A weak groan sounds in his breath as his muscles tighten. Shuddering, he mutters quietly. “Oh god…. You’re driving me crazy again.” As his hips begin to rock, he bites his lip. Reaching to lay his hand atop Nigel’s, he gently squeezes his fingers over his length. “You make me so fucking hard. I’m going to need to drag you into that bathroom before long.”

Raking his ashen locks as he wickedly smirks, a chuckle slips out as he slides down under the table. “Whisper all the fucking dirty details about what you and I did all night, we got all the fucking time in the world.” Placing himself between Hannibal’s thighs, his thumb brushes over the slit. “As you have been so nice to me in that alley, I’m merely fucking returning the favor. I am sure you can cum twice.” Gently pulling and squeezing the length, his tongue ever so slightly ghosts over the smooth head. “It’s me who’s going to fucking drag you over, not the other way around, dear brother.” His fingers stretching the foreskin, his lips envelope the head. 

His hand reaches for Nigel’s as it slips away. Watching wide eyed as his brother slips under the table, his breath shudders. “Oh god. Oh god…” He leans his head back against the tall seat as he feels Nigel move between his legs. His heavy cock bobs over his tight abs. His fingers glide through his brother’s hair, barely clutching. Whimpering softly, he pushes against Nigel’s tongue. A tremor shakes through his body. “Oh god, yes.” His eyes squeeze shut as soft lips close around the head of his cock. Blood surging to his groin, he groans as his arousal suddenly deepens. “Oh god. You always were so fucking good. Oh fuck.” 

“Whenever the waitress comes, just order whatever the fuck you want to get.” His tongue sensually licks over the underside of his brother’s cock and his fingers wrap around the balls, squeezing and rolling each sac and squeezing it. Sniffing his brother’s hard rod before taking it more deeper, his tongue curves around the thick length, his full lips encompassing the shaft, almost to the halfway. As he feels Hannibal’s fingers against his hair, he begins to move his head more eagerly, gently sucking and rolling his tongue against the throbbing cock. Humming and softly closing his eyes, he bobs his head deeply and slowly, feeling the tip kiss the back of his throat. His fingers continuing to fondle the balls. 

Drifting in the most sublime pleasure, he lets himself go. Closing his fingers in Nigel’s hair, he rocks into his perfect mouth. Soft moans fill the darkened corner. “Oh god. I’ve always loved that fucking mouth of yours. Just looking at your lips I imagine them all over me. Taking my cock so beautifully.” Sensing someone’s presence, he opens his eyes. The waitress raises a finger over her lips and gives him a knowing glance. Smiling, she leaves the champagne and two flutes before pulling a screen to help shield the corner from the rest of the restaurant. Shaking his head, Hannibal chuckles breathlessly. “Oh fuck. I don’t think we need to worry about ordering for awhile. … God, I fucking love Paris.” Gripping Nigel’s hair tighter, he thrusts in deep. “Ahh!... ahh…Oh fuck…” He clenches his ass, driving in smooth strokes. “God I need to see you. Fuck…I can still remember how fucking gorgeous you look.”

A smug and low rumble of a chuckle emits as he continues to twirl his tongue. His lips reaching all the way to Hannibal’s base, the thick length makes it deep inside his throat. Breathing hard through his nostrils, his teeth grazes the veiny cock as he strongly sucks, feeling the precum leak and his lips glisten with his own saliva and Hannibal’s precum. He knows the waitress is there and he intentionally makes more noises, as he parts to grope his lips against the swollen head, sucking and lapping at the slit. As Hannibal thrusts deep, he takes a sharp intake of breath and lifts the tablecloth, his eyes transfixed against Hannibal’s as he voraciously looks upward. By the time he takes the whole length again, his lower face is trickling and dripping with the fluids from both.

He gasps as Nigel’s face emerges from under the table. “Oh fuck…Look at you. Oh my god.” Warm breath streams from his open mouth, his eyes locked on his brother’s face. On his cock disappearing into Nigel’s warm mouth. Trembling all over, his head falls back. “Oh god, yes.” Stilling the other with a hand at his nape, he thrusts in deep. “Ahh!...I’m-I’m going to cum. I know you can take it. All of it.” Lowering his chin to his chest, his eyes narrow. He fucks Nigel’s mouth in quick strokes, slick glistening on his brother’s chin. “Ahh!” His eyes clench shut, a hard shudder shakes through his body. “Oh fuck…” Sobbing, his cock strains, streaming hot cum into the back of his brother’s mouth. His muscles quiver with tightness. Beads of sweat trail together down his cheeks. 

Opening his mouth as big as he could to accommodate Hannibal’s thick length, his hand grabs the base and takes his brother’s deep thrusts. Puffing hard through his nose as he takes deep breaths, his eyes crease as his gaze moves to focus on Hannibal’s hip movements. A thick viscous fluid dripping onto the floor now as he feels his brother’s cock surge, he widely opens his mouth to take the heavy load. His brother’s cock twitching and throbbing inside his mouth, he swallows more than half of it, the thick rope hitting the back of his mouth and his adam’s apple rhythmically bobs as he sucks to milk the cum down. Slurping as he licks his lower lip, he licks the head clean and then crawls out. Sitting next to his brother, he immediately cups Hannibal’s cheek and turns his face, molding his glistening lips against his brother’s and pushes his tongue inside, swiping his tongue to give his brother the taste of the beads of his own warm cum. 

His eyes roll back in his head. Giddy with afterglow, he chuckles faintly as Nigel moves to sit beside him. “Oh fuck …” A groan flees his lips as his brother turns his face. For a brief second, his eyes focus on Nigel’s full, pink lips shining in the dim light. “Oh god …” His words trail off as their lips press together. Opening his mouth wide, he moans as his brother’s tongue glides against his. “Mmmm …” Soft gasps slip past their lips as he tilts his head to push deeper. Taking a quick breath, he peppers gentle kisses on Nigel’s face. His tongue gathers a bit of cum from the corner of the other’s lips. Swiping it over his own, he hums, savoring. Hovering close, he studies Nigel’s serene expression. “Mm. … Once again, I’m fucking speechless. I think we need some champagne after that. I know I do.” 

Closing his eyes and gliding his lips against Hannibal’s, his hand reaches for his brother’s cock and puts it back inside the other’s pants, zipping the zip and then giving it a teasing pat. Leaning against the small pecks of kisses, he swipes his own tongue over his mouth, tasting more of the blend of saltiness and sweetness. Licking his lower lip, he lopsidedly smirks and wraps his arm around Hannibal’s shoulder. “Good, I like you when you’re speechless and I am willing to make you even more speechless when we head back.” Nodding and opening the champagne bottle, he pours generous amount of it to each of the flute and hands Hannibal one. Making a toasting gesture, he pats Hannibal’s thigh and guzzles it down, his full lips cupping the rim of the glass in the most sensual way.

Giving Nigel a sideward glance, he grins behind the rim of the champagne flute. Tilting it back, he swallows the full glassl down easily, his adam’s apple bobbing as the bubbles twitch his nose. Chuckling, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “God, I needed that.” Taking a deep breath, he rakes his fingers through his damp hair. “I’d forgotten how much you wear me out.” Picking up the menu, he smirks. “But don’t worry. I’ll get my strength back soon enough.” His eyes drift over the menu. “I think I know what I’m having,” After topping off Nigel’s champagne, he refills his own flute. Tugging his pant leg down, he pushes back into his seat. “Oh fuck. I think I’m still hard. Better order soon, I may be having you for dessert.” His eyes close as he takes a long drink. Smiling warmly, he sighs. “Shall I call her over? I’m sure she’s hiding from us by now.”

His lower face still wet with his saliva and a bit of cum, he wipes his face clean with the napkin and looks over the menu. “Thank fuck they have English translations. My fucking French needs rebooting.” His gaze flickering as he parts his lips, he points down to the preserved duck foie gras dish. “I never fucking doubted your stamina. I’m sure you’re up to second round.” As soon as his flute is refilled again, he gulps half of the content down. Easing into the seat as he casually leans, he crosses his legs and glances down at Hannibal’s cock. “You are fucking impossibly desperate and needy for me, aren’t you? Aw, I was going to have you next. Maybe I can relieve you of that.” Stroking the outline of Hannibal’s hard length, he gets up from his seat and turns back to look at his brother. “Why don’t you order that first and follow me to the restroom? Let me fucking take care of that.” With his usual swagger, he walks off to the restroom.

Lips pressed tight, he swallows a groan. His muscles clench, forcing a twitch in his hips. He nods, a small “mm” vibrating in his throat. Watching Nigel walk away, his eyes crease as a shudder trills up his back. He downs the rest of his champagne with a gulp. Shifting his gaze around the room, he spies the waitress just beyond the edge of the folding screen. Giving his mouth a quick wipe, he tosses his napkin on the table. “The foie gras for my brother, and the langoustine for me. Oh, and more champagne.” His fingers close around her wrist as she begins to walk away. “Take your time.” The young woman blushes, lowering her eyes. He follows Nigel’s path to the restroom, pacing himself not to appear too eager. 

Before he goes to the restroom, Nigel manages to sneak out the staff only door, which leads to the outside. Having a quick smoke and getting back inside with a half-smoked cig hanging on his lips, he saunters back to the restroom before Hannibal makes his way inside it. Leaning against the tiled walls and looking at his reflection from the full-length mirror, he pulls at the boatneck collar, which keeps sliding off his shoulder and expose his defined collarbone. Hearing the soft steps of his brother’s boots, he goes inside one of the stalls all the way to the back. The door is transparent, but when it locks, it becomes opaque. He closes the door, but doesn’t lock it. “The last stall, Hannibal.” He murmurs in his low and husky voice, then takes his jeans off, just enough so that the other can see his erection popping out.

Nearing the restroom, he rolls his neck. The collar of his sweater feeling uncomfortably close against his damp skin. Long fingers raking through his dark hair, he wets his lips. The door opens with a faint creak. A shrewd grin pulls across his face. “Hmm. I know you’re here.” He inhales deeply. “I can smell your cigarette. Mm. And maybe even a little something more.” Hearing Nigel’s voice, he tugs his lip with his teeth. “Mm. I hope you’re ready for me after leaving me out there to pick my jaw up off the floor.” Pushing the stall door open, he stands frozen a moment. A soft groan sounding in his ragged breath. “My lord. Look at you.” Taking a step inside, he closes the door behind him, leaning against it. “You look good enough to eat.” Another step forward and his chest is flush with Nigel’s. His fingers close around his heavy cock as he tilts into his neck. “We have all the time we need. The waitress knows what kind of tip is coming her way. I imagine she’s right outside now, keeping watch for us.”

When Hannibal comes inside the last stall, Nigel had been turned to his profile, leaning against the walls and slowly stroking his length, which had been already rock hard. As soon as his brother enters the stall, he lifts himself off from the wall and his eyes scan Hannibal up and down. The hem of the sweater barely covering his groin where the base of his cock is, his eyes flutter shut as he feels his bare erection brush against Hannibal’s clothed one. Under his brother’s touch, his cock twitches and begins to weep precum from the slit. “Good, what I am going to make you do, speaking of eating me, is to give you my fucking load. Quid pro quo, yes?” Whispering sultrily against Hannibal’s ear, he presses his lips against his brother’s and parts, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. “Kneel.” 

Lips trembling against Nigel’s neck, he pants softly. His tongue glides up to his ear as his finger traces the underside of his brother’s cock. “Quid pro quo. Always.” Rolling his hips against Nigel’s, a hint of a groan puffs from his chest. Pressing his full lips into the kiss, his eyes linger on the other’s as he parts. He lowers to his knees, keeping his gaze on Nigel’s sharp expression. “If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right.” Pulling the jeans down over his brother’s thighs, he eases them over his knees and to the floor before tugging them free of his boots. His broad hands caress Nigel’s inner thighs as he gently pushes them apart. Stroking his cheek against his brother’s cock, he gazes in his eyes, tracing the bow of his lips with the tip of his tongue. “That’s so much better.” His hands on Nigel’s hips, he dips his face low. His nose brushing across the shaft as his dark hair clings to the slick dripping from the slit. Sinking into his knees, he cups his tongue to lavish the velvety sac with long licks. Breathing in Nigel’s warm scent, he hums. He closes his mouth around the soft skin and lightly sucks, Moving from place to place, he raises red marks that dot the sensitive flesh. “Mmm.” Panting, he lifts his eyes before taking a long lick up the length of Nigel’s cock. Flicking the slit with the point of his tongue, beads of precum slide into his mouth. 

Watching his brother make the quick work of taking off his jeans, his cock heavily dangles against his thighs, which begin to smear beads against his soft flesh. “Of course, no fucking doubt about it. You’d like to see me whole.” The only thing that separates him from being completely naked is his loose sweater now falling off his shoulder yet again. Hannibal’s face against his throbbing cock radiates warmth as he faintly groans, the viscous liquid beading against the flesh and trickling down slowly. Parting his legs apart and inching closer to the closed cover of the toilet, he places his hand on Hannibal’s shoulder and the other one gently grabs the dark locks. As soon as the warm tongue molds onto his sac, his eyelashes flutter and his eyes close, a wave of arousal ripping through his core. “Mmm...ahh… Just like that.” His thighs tremor in arousal as his torso leans forward, his fingers digging into Hannibal’s scalp and scratches it gently. A long and shaky groan slipping out his parted lips as the veins around his cock arouses up as if an electric current is passing through, his chest lifts frantically as his breathing quickens. His heavily hooded eyes gaze downward at his slit and Hannibal’s mouth, the lascivious sight of his glistening beads of cum landing on Hannibal’s fleshy tongue sending more jolt of arousal down to his lower abdomen. 

The sounds of his brother’s pleasure, the blissed look in his eyes, spur him forward. Gripping his shaft just below the edge of his foreskin, he pulls the fleshy sleeve back. Just a bit. Inching it back and forward, he pushes his plush lips over the swollen head. His cheeks hollowing, moans slip past his lips as he savors the taste of more slick seeping across his tongue. His dark hair fringes over his closed eyes as he tilts his head, swirling his mouth around the spongy, smooth flesh. Closing his fingers tighter, he squeezes rhythmically. A satisfied hum vibrates his lips as he swallows a stream of the dense liquid. Cupping his lip under the crown, he takes a breath. His lashes flutter as he lifts his eyes. “Oh god. You taste so good.” He rocks on his knees, gasping faintly as each lift presses his aching cock against his too tight pants.

A shaky groan flutters out from his parted lips as his head rolls down to his chest, his damp ashen locks draping down the length of his face. The feeling of his foreskin stretching sends the veins to throb with more blood flow. His sensitive slit profusely spilling precum as his shoulders lurch forward, his hold on Hannibal’s shoulder and hair tightens, his nails digging into the back of his brother’s neck to leave crescent marks scattered throughout the flesh. Lifting his hips and standing up, his hips jut out, wanting to push deeper into Hannibal’s mouth. As his breathing quickens and begins to pant, he can hear the reverberating sound of his heart thumping through his brain. “Oh fuck… At this fucking rate, I’m cumming in no time.” Leaning against the wall and pushing his cock further down Hannibal’s throat, he begins to squeeze his glutes and begins to slowly thrust. 

Taking a quick breath, he swallows Nigel’s cock deep. He shudders as his throat clamps shut. Forcing a swallow, he begins bobbing his head. His fingers splay over his brother’s firm ass, digging into the soft flesh. Thumbs curled around his sharp hips, he holds Nigel fast against the wall. Pressing the flat of his tongue to the underside of his cock, he moves in slow strokes. Slick and saliva drip from his lips, slipping down his chin. Eyes closed, he puffs through his nose. Pushing his mouth hard to Nigel’s groin, he stills. The head glancing against the soft wall of his throat. His arms shake, still holding his brother in place. Shoulders twitching, he pulls back. A quick gasp for breath before he thrusts his mouth over Nigel’s cock with renewed purpose. Bobbing in quick strokes, he holds his lips tight around the thick length. Strings of spit trail down to collar. 

More erratic and wanton groans spilling out from his lips, his legs begin to shake as impending orgasm nears. Each of Hannibal’s movement sends him close to the edge, he can feel the swollen head continuing to leak and the shaft heavily pulsates inside the warm heat. Moving his hips to match Hannibal’s slow rhythm, his breaths come out in strained puffs. Beads of sweat rolling off his forehead and neck, his head frantically thrashes against the stall wall. As soon as Hannibal closes his mouth over his length again, he fucks into his brother’s mouth with fast thrusts, nearing to cum. Pursing his lips and biting them hard, his back sharply arch in a bow and his head falls back, almost thrashing. Jutting his hips sharply as he feels his cock surge, he releases dense ropes of cum as he feels the sensitive head kiss the back of Hannibal’s throat. His length violently twitching, more strings continue to propel out as he heavily pants, he instinctively tug Hannibal’s hair hard and brings his face closer. 

As Nigel’s hips jut forward, he can feel his cock straining to reach back into his throat. Pressing his lips hard against him, he clenches his eyes shut. His brother’s sac smacks wet against his chin. A muffled gasp puffs from his nose as the salty cum fills his mouth. Swallowing as fast as he can, his adam’s apple bobs frantically. Tugged by the hair, his nose presses flat against Nigel’s damp skin. Straining to breathe, he pushes off with a sharp gasp. Cum drips from his lips as he swallows hard. Breathless, he looks up at Nigel. His face flush and glistening with sweat. His glassy eyes searching for focus. His head falls back. “Oh fuck …” Panting, he licks his lips. A weak chuckle rattles his heaving chest. “Oh god. … You’ve been saving it up for me. I could’ve sworn that you came earlier back in the alley.”

His chest frantically rising and falling as he dreamily gazes down at Hannibal, he leans against the wall with a soft thud. His legs still shaking as he rides through his orgasm, he licks the back of his teeth with his tongue and pulls at his sweater. His head rolling to his shoulder, he faintly chuckles and gazes downward at his brother. “It’s your goddamn fucking cocksucking faggot mouth, I blame all of it on you, you goddamn bastard.” Pulling his brother up as he gently tugs Hannibal’s hair and shoulder, he clashes his lips against his brother’s dripping and glistening face, his own cum, Hannibal’s sweat and saliva still trickling down from the lips. Tilting his head and backing his brother towards the opposite side of the stall, his hand quickly works to undress the other. “Clothes, off. I want to take you from behind.”

His hands trail up Nigel’s hips as he moves to stand. Groaning, he envelops his brother’s mouth with his lips. Sliding wet into the kiss, he savors the taste still warm on his tongue. Looking at Nigel with an upturned gaze, he grunts as his back hits the wall. “Fuck.” Pressing his palm to the cool metal, he watches his brother’s hands move deftly to strip him. His hips roll forward. “Oh fuck …” He pushes his pants down over his knees before shoving them down further with his feet. Turning to face the wall, his hands spread wide against it. Clenching his ass, his hips twitch. His head falls forward as his chest heaves with heavy breaths. His dark hair clings to his face. “Oh fuck, yes.” He lifts on his toes, arching his back. 

Smirking, a rumbling chuckle, very low and husky ones slip out of him as he watches Hannibal turn around to face the wall. His hands immediately burn through against his brother’s side, lifting the hem of the sweater to glide his palms against the tanned flesh. “I’d fucking appreciate it if you can get this off, too. I want to touch you all over before I stick my cock inside you.” His arm circling around as if it’s a snake constricting its prey before the mouth swallow it whole, his hand glides upward against his brother’s ripped abdomen and chest, pinching the nubs. “I’ve waited so fucking long to do this, consider this a preview of what I’m gonna do to you once we get back to the hotel.” The other one travels downward to tantalizingly brush against Hannibal’s entrance, running his fingers along the crack of his brother’s ass. 

Grabbing the back of his sweater, he pulls it over his head. He lets it fall to the floor before rushing his hand back to the wall. His spine rolls in a wave at the feel of Nigel’s arm slipping around him. Muscles tensing, soft moans sound in his ragged breath. His eyes squeeze shut at the sharp pain in his nipples. “Ahh! …” His firm ass clenches tight, the soft flesh quivering. “Oh god. If this is a preview, I better be lying down for the real thing. I can barely fucking stand.” His back dips, curving like a bow, as Nigel teases his entrance. Pressing his lips together, he whimpers quietly. “F-fuck … oh fuck.” His legs tremble. “Fucking take me.”

As soon as Hannibal’s sweater comes off, Nigel leans against his brother’s broad and tanned back. “Oh, you’d be laying down on the mattress all right, and your arms tied to the headboard and legs splayed open. Maybe I’ll just tie all of your limbs and have you cum over and over again without me even fucking your tight hole.” He nips Hannibal’s earlobe and licks the flesh behind the other’s neck, tasting the salty sweat. His arm wraps more tightly around Hannibal and moves to the other nipple, squeezing hard and twisting it. The finger pushing into his brother’s tight entrance, he whispers in the other’s ear. “Oh, is that the best you can beg?” 

Neck arched, his head rolls against his shoulder. Visions of being at Nigel’s mercy flood his brain. Already feeling helpless, he earnestly whimpers as his brother’s warm mouth moves over his neck. The heat of Nigel’s body seems to melt into him. He groans as the sharp twist of his nipple sends a jolt to his cock. Feeling a finger press against his tight rim, he gasps. “Oh fuck…” His walls instantly clench and throb with tension. “Ahh!...” Rolling his head forward, sweat drips from his trembling lips. His cock strains to lift, dripping long strands of dense slick. “Fuck. You always were such a fucking tease. ... “ Pushing against the wall, he grunts, trying to take Nigel’s finger deeper. “Fuck. Fine. … Please. Please goddammit.” His heart racing, he closes his eyes, listening to it drum in his head. “Goddammit, Nigel. You know how much I fucking want you. … Please.”

His arm that wrapped around Hannibal’s tight abs now move downward to gently cup the velvety sac, rolling his fingers against the smooth skin and squeezes tightly. His finger inside Hannibal’s tight heat slowly curves, stretching the ring of muscles out before he pops it back out rather abruptly. He can feel his own chest heave rhythmically against Hannibal’s back. Grinding against Hannibal’s ass, his hard cock brushes against the crevice. “Of course, I can already feel you shudder and your heart beating frantically in anticipation of my cock to impale your tight ass.” His long fingers wrapping around Hannibal’s shaft and stretching the foreskin, he quickly slams his cock inside Hannibal’s deliciously tight walls. His ass squeezes hard as he pushes through the ardent heat of his brother’s ring of muscles, his whole body trembles as the friction sends electric jolt of arousal down his groin. “Fuck… So fucking exquisite.” 

Pushing back, his whole body trembles. He can feel the slick from Nigel’s cock drip down the groove of his ass. With his brother’s hand expertly working his sac, he’s already straining to hold back the pressure skyrocketing inside him. “Oh god …” His eyes widen as he watches Nigel’s fingers move to his cock, now continually streaming dense precum. Just the slightest touch is like a match set to gasoline. Before he can even stop shuddering, he gasps breathlessly, suddenly impaled on his brother’s cock. “Ahh!...” The shock of it shoots from the tips of his toes all the way through the top of his head. Enveloped from the inside out, as if they’re sharing the same skin. “Oh fuck, yes …” Every nerve is alive and focused on the feeling of fullness, oneness. His throbbing walls radiate waves of bliss from his core. Arms shaking as he struggles to push back, he sobs weakly. Sweat drips down his broad back, glistening in the soft light. “Oh god. Oh god. … Ohh, fuck me, Nigel. Cum inside me… I want it so fucking much.”

Feeling the tight sleeve stretch as his thick length makes all the way inside, Hannibal’s scorching heat along every inch of his cock sends ardent pleasure throughout his body. Beginning to drip sweat from his head, streams of sweat wets his broad back and gets absorbed in his sweater as the fabric flaps around his skin as he moves. His front pressing and molding against his brother’s back, completely conjoined, he stills for a bit and relishes the burn before taking his length out to drive it forcefully back inside. His fingers tightly grasping Hannibal’s jutting hipbone, his nails dig into his brother’s skin and makes small crescent shapes as he continues to thrust slowly and deeply. “Oh god, fuck, you feel so good.” Pulling Hannibal as his other hand continues to pleasure the other’s cock, he guides his brother to sit on the closed toilet. “Kneel on there and bend over, so I can fuck you deeper and harder.” 

Fingers curling into fists, his knuckles grow white pressed against the cold metal wall. Thighs tense, he revels in the onslaught of sensation. His tight walls spread open to easily take Nigel’s thick length. Any pain immediately ceding to white hot pleasure. Just as when they were young, before he even knew what to do sexually, his body leads the way. Pushing back, he matches his brother’s rhythm. Their bodies smacking together wetly. All this muscles squeezing, hugging Nigel’s cock until he can feel the blood pumping in his veins. Eyes closed, his shoulders shake with soft sobs. His own member stands straight at attention between his legs, flush and throbbing. His sobs growing louder as Nigel continues to pump, he bites his lip. The feel of the satiny sleeve of his foreskin stroking over his shaft seems to pull the cum right up through him. Perched on the praecipice, he clenches his eyes, groaning as he’s guided to kneel and bend to spread open. Resting his head on his crossed arms, he opens his thighs as wide as he can. Completely surrendering to Nigel’s relentless hard thrusts.

He still doesn’t remember much about how their lovemaking had been when they were living in Paris as adolescent boys, but he could definitely feel that all of his senses gravitated towards pleasuring, or being pleasured by his older twin. Gyrating his hips and burying his length deeper until his balls slap forcefully against Hannibal’s ass, his chest lifts uncontrollably as he feels his brother’s equally escalated heartbeat. Feeling the other’s erection stand up, he strokes the underside with his warm hand and wraps his fingers around the throbbing cock. His deft and wet fingers coating the viscous fluid all over, the amalgamation of the slapping sound, the wet sound of their skin melting onto each other’s create an intoxicating mix of satisfaction. As soon at Hannibal spreads himself more, he berserkly impales with his thick cock, spreading his brother’s asscheeks more open to get the lascivious and lewd view of his cock easily make all the way inside the tight rim. Standing by balls of his feet to angle his thrusts downward, his lips clench tightly, panting and puffing harshly as he pistons his hips, his gluteus maximus squeezing tightly as possible to surge and grind into Hannibal’s tight ass. “Fuck… I need you.. to cum first, I’m almost there.” 

His shoulders lurch forward with each hard stroke. Spine curving, his ass lifts higher. Nigel’s balls slam against his own heavy sac. Instinctively, he clenches as his brother’s cock kisses his sweet spot. Like a shock to his heart, it sends his mind spinning with one purpose. Every cell focused on his desperate need for release, he squeezes his eyes tight, clenching his teeth. Dripping with sweat, he reaches back. His cheek pressed against cold porcelain, his fingers dig in to the firm flesh of his ass to spread himself open even wider. “Oh god. Don’t stop. … Oh god, I’m so fucking close.” The edge is so near he can taste it as well as see it. Sweet relief just over the horizon. “Ahh! ..” Clenching so tight he forces Nigel’s cock to still, he freezes. Hanging by a thin thread over a dark abyss. Floating. Pleasure and fear grip him as he trembles completely helpless beyond the point of no return. At once, the pressure releases like a hurricane wave crashing over his body. “Ahh! Fuck!!...” Hips jutting, he cums so hard it hurts. Painting the back of the toilet with white stripes.

His chest feeling like it’s going to break through his ribcage, he falls against Hannibal’s broad back, his full lips breathless against the sweaty and tanned skin as his heavily lidded eyes close. Heavily panting and feeling his thighs tremor, he groans wantonly when Hannibal’s tight walls squeeze with all of his might. The force so strong it feels like he’s going to explode inside out. On cloud nine as he relishes in the ecstatic and rippling pleasure, he squeezes his brother’s shaft and runs his hand up, rolling his fingers against the sensitive slit and squeezes. As soon as he feels his brother cum into his hand and onto the porcelain of the back of the toilet, he spurts dense ropes of cum with a force so great that it drains most of his energy. Feeling his length continuously throb and pulsate, he slams particularly hard against Hannibal’s ass and his trembling hand reaches for it, groping and kneading the firm flesh hard until he sees his big hand mark impressed onto the healthily glowing skin. “Fuck… I haven’t cum this fucking hard ever.” His dreamy gaze lands on the back of his brother’s head and all the way down to rippling back muscles that glisten with a film of sweat. 

His hips still jerking uncontrollably, a loud groan sounds in his ragged breath as he feels Nigel surge. The forces of their orgasms coming together like two storm fronts, creating sensation greater than the sum of its parts. Like ripples colliding on the surface and expanding endlessly. More cum streams from his still hard cock. Bringing his arms under his soaked face, he shakes his head, disbelieving, as if it will never stop. Nigel’s broad hand on his ass grounds him. He moans weakly. Still straining to catch his breath. His heart feels as if its in his throat. Every inch of his bare skin drenched in sweat, he trembles as the hot waves begin to subside. Pressing his forehead to his wrist, he tucks his chin into his heaving chest, breathing warm through his open mouth. His ass rhythmically squeezing, he quietly moans as the last ripples drift further apart, replaced by the afterglow. “Oh god … Oh god, Nigel.”

A weak strings of groan slipping out as he takes his still hard and throbbing length out, he almost collapses and drives his tongue against Hannibal’s entrance, which leaks his warm and viscous cum along with Hannibal’s slick. Watching it trickle down as his brother’s walls contract and flutter and the fluids make its way down to coat and drip onto the floor, he licks a long stripe to lick and lap the liquid clean. A layer of his own saliva coating Hannibal’s asscrack, he relishes the salty taste of their mingled scents. An intoxicating smell of their sex and heady smell of sweat enveloping him, he grabs Hannibal’s inner thighs hard and begins to draw a circular motions along the puckered skin along the entrance. His frantic breath still upon him as he takes sharp intakes of air, his pointed tongue prods inside to taste more of that pungent fluid leaking out of his brother. “Mm, maybe I should stop here, this is just a snippet of a preview of what I am going to do to you at the hotel.” Reveling the sight before him, he smirks wickedly and helps Hannibal to stand up. 

Gasping, his hips twitch as he feels Nigel’s warm mouth against his fluttering rim. His fingers and toes curl tight. Like a gust of wind on a smoldering fire, his brother’s tongue sends him reeling once more. His weakened muscles spring to life, tensing. He shivers as hot cum drips down his sensitive inner thigh. “Oh f-fuck…” Reaching back, his fingers tremble as they clutch at Nigel’s hair. “Oh god, Nigel.” Pushing back on his knees, he presses into his brother’s face. Nigel’s tongue like a warm, wet brush on his burning flesh. Blood surges to his cock, leaving his already addled mind light-headed. Lips numb, he pants breathlessly. His heart beats frantically in his chest. “Oh god ....” He groans as Nigel stops, letting his torso slump down. His ass still twitching, he grabs onto his brother to help himself up. His legs shake, useless. Wrapping his arms around Nigel’s back, he hooks his chin over his shoulder, sobbing softly. “Oh fuck. God, I’m so fucking helpless when it comes to you.”

Propping his brother to stand up, Nigel’s hand reaches for Hannibal’s hair and brushes it back, feeling the sweat coat his palm as his fingers comb through the damp and dark hair. Draping his arm around his brother’s back to support him, he can still feel the other’s body tremor with arousal and excitement. “Speaking of helpless, I’d want you to completely break down under my tongue and lips. And my hand.” Lifting his chin proudly as he licks his glistening lips, his lower face is covered with a blend of his saliva, cum and Hannibal’s slick from the heat. “I think it’s time to go back to the table and eat our birthday dinner, yes?” His other arm pulling Hannibal by the back of his neck, he pulls the other close and hungrily kisses him, groping his lips hard and tight against Hannibal’s lips. Pushing him against the locked door with a soft thud, he tugs his still hard cock back inside his jeans and parts, grabbing Hannibal’s clothes thrown on the floor. 

His fingers splayed across Nigel’s broad back, he swallows hard, trying to calm his ragged breath. With his brother’s chest pressed flush with his own, he can heartbeat still thundering in his head. He brushes his flush cheek against Nigel’s as he lifts his head to look into his eyes. Glassy eyed, his lips quiver. Cupping his brother’s jaw in his hand, he strokes a thumb over his high cheek. “No one could ever make me come undone like you. It’s as if you know exactly how to unlock every part of me.” At Nigel’s suggestion, he nods, pursing his lips. His gaze falls to his brother’s mouth as it moves closer. A soft gasp sounds in his breath, Eyes fluttering closed, he kisses him passionately, wrapping his arm behind his neck. His back hitting the door, he exhales a whimper as their lips part. Rolling his head back, he leans from his shoulders. Arms limp at his sides, he breathes deep, staring unfocused at the ceiling. “Oh god. Okay. … I can do this.” Taking his clothes from Nigel, he leans against a wall and begins dressing. After his pants, he pulls the sweater over his head before raking the damp hair from his face. Fingers rubbing the sweat from around his eyes, he exhales a hard breath. “Jesus, that was intense. I think I’m going to be feeling it all throughout dinner.”

Zipping up his jeans and looking intently and sultrily at his brother, he cards through his ashen locks, tilts his neck and wipes his lip with his thumb. “Your underwear is sticking out from the back.” Chuckling and lifting the waistband of Hannibal’s pants, he smirks and pulls down the hem of Hannibal’s sweater. “And I fucking want you to, until we make it back to the hotel.” Breathing deep, he grabs Hannibal’s hand and pulls him off the wall, opening the door and walking towards the door. Checking his reflection off the mirror on the side, his still sweaty and glistening face staring back at him with a healthy glow radiating from his facade, he splashes some cold water before and wipes his face clean. “We would definitely have to pay that waitress a hefty tip. Is that a reflection I see outside the door?” Playfully bantering, he leads his brother back to their seat with his usual swagger.


	7. The Surprise

The morning sun breaks hard through the sheer curtains, falling suddenly on his face as a cloud drifts away. Instinctively, his eyes squeeze tight as the bright light seeps through his lids. Nuzzling into the pillow, his hips shift back as he stirs. A hand stroking the arm draped over his waist, a slight smile curves his lips. A deep sigh lifts his chest at feeling Nigel pressed close against his back. The heavy scent of their lovemaking fills his head as his senses awaken. Gently lifting his brother’s arm, he rolls over to wrap his own around Nigel’s waist. Brushing his nose into the warmth of his neck, he hums softly, smile broadening as his lips glide over a string of pearls. His eyes blink open to admire his twin’s peaceful face. A soft kiss on the corner of his full lips leads into a trail over his cheek. You were so wonderful last night. I can’t wait to show you the special surprise I have planned for today. His mind drifts to their old apartment, the key in a small velvet box. The place where they’d first made love was too precious to belong to anyone else. After they’d visited the Tower in the morning, he’d take Nigel to their old neighborhood and reveal his special birthday gift. Combing his fingers through his brother’s mussed hair, his warm breath falls on his cheek. “Time to wake up, dear brother,’ he whispers, “We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

Shadowed by Hannibal’s head, he doesn’t even stir once when the scorching morning light seeps into the spacious window. His arm heavily draped over his brother’s waist, his face is pressed against the back of his twin’s shoulder. After their long hour of lovemaking, the deep slumber came almost instantly, as soon as his erratic and breathless pants subsided into a slow rhythm, the view had been cut to black. He reminiscences about what Hannibal had told him about their adolescence; with them playing with snow near the Eiffel Tower and going up the tower for an infinite duration of kissing. He wishes he would be able to recollect the memory. Perhaps when they have an opportunity to recreate it, just like they had with their first lovemaking. Sensing the other’s movement and the warmth of his brother’s hand and lips upon his warm skin, the hand that has been on his twin’s waist unconsciously pulls the other’s waist towards him. A faint groan emits from his lips as he wakes, feeling a stripe of bright sun shine upon his closed eyelids. Instinctively, his head turns to evade the sunlight as his body also turns, he feels a warm trail of Hannibal’s exhale across his face. His brother’s long fingers still raking through his bedhead. “Mm.. I’m awake.” One of his legs wrap around Hannibal’s legs. “Just gimme a fucking minute for me to fully rouse, I fucking hate mornings.” Taking a soft inhale that lifts his chest, he rubs sleep away from his still dreamy eyes. 

With an appreciative hum, his eyes light up as he adores Nigel’s sleepy expression. “I don’t know if I said this aloud or not, but I was just thinking about how wonderful you were last night.” As his brother rolls over, his arm tightens around his narrow waist, cheek brushing against his hair as he kisses a shoulder. “I’ve got no right to be feeling as well-rested as I do after everything we did. It seems I sleep better with you than I do alone though.” His hand moves to glide over the curve of Nigel’s hip, eyes following along. “Mm. Why don’t you sleep a little while longer and I’ll get started on my shower. I’ll even order us some breakfast. With strong as fuck coffee, just as you like it.” Pecking a kiss on his brother’s cheek, he gives him one last squeeze of a hug before parting from the bed. After a brief conversation in French over the phone, he retreats to the bathroom. 

A faint smile slightly stretches the corner of his lips. “I recall you saying that twice last night, after you fucking came and just before I fell asleep.” His broad hand running the length of Hannibal’s spine as he feels the strong muscles underneath flex, he tugs his twin closer, his ashen hair brushing against the other’s cheek as he feels the warm lips kiss his shoulder. “Same here, Hannibal, same here... “ His hazel eyes slowly opening to regard his brother and then closing back down, his hand moves to glide over Hannibal’s chest as his twin pecks a kiss on his cheek. After a guttural and low hum that rattles his chest, his chin briefly digs into his brother’s shoulder before the other parts. Turning to his side again, now facing the opposite direction from where the morning sun is breaking into the window, his back basks in the light as he clutches the blanket. He pulls it in front of his chest as he immediately falls asleep again, his backside exposed out in the open. 

Still rubbing a towel over his head, he steps out of the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam a short while later. Chuckling at the sight on the bed, he gives Nigel a playful smack on his bare ass. “I knew you’d fall back asleep. I should’ve dragged you in the shower with me.” Hearing a knock at the door, he wraps the towel around his waist before opening to let room service in. Lifting a silver cover, he smiles, inhaling a delicious, savory scent. “I hope you’re hungry. I think they were a little appalled when I asked for bacon instead of ham on the croque monsieurs but I know that’s how you like them.” With a polite nod to the waiter and a generous tip, he dismisses him. After delivering a steaming cup of coffee to the nightstand, he arranges two plates on the table by the window. “That should help wake you up. I can smell how strong it is before I even taste it.” Nicking a strawberry from a small bowl of mixed fruit, he chews it down hungrily. “I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten for a week.”

As soon as Hannibal smacks his ass, he instantly rouses and rubs his behind. “Ow! What the fuck, Hannibal.” After a playful roll of his eyes and a glare that follows it, he covers his lower half with the blanket and pulls himself up. Leaning against the headboard and rubbing half of his face with his hand, he finds his hand and face to be super dry. A day old stubble gracing his jawline. His eyelids still heavy with sleep, a long sigh slips out as he looks over at the door. “Who the fuck cares, bacon tastes tenfold better inside the croque monsieur than the fucking ham. Tastes shit fuck tons better with the smokiness and saltiness with the bechamel sauce.” The aroma of strong as fuck coffee immediately drawing his attention to the plates, he savors the smell before taking a short sip. Feeling ravenous after the long night of lovemaking and passing out that followed afterwards, he eagerly chews down on the croque monsieur after settling down in front of the table, still nude, with crossed legs. “It’s fucking good. I mean, whatever the fuck we have in this state, everything would taste good no matter what I ate.” 

His lips curl into a smile as he sets his cup down. “You always did have a healthy appetite. In every sense of the word.” Eyes flit over Nigel’s crossed legs as he takes a bite of his breakfast and swallows it down. “I appreciate that you’ve dressed for the table too. I’d enjoy seeing you just like that for every meal.” A tilt in his smile, he dives in for another bite. Over another sip of coffee, he glances at the clock on the nightstand. “If we finish up soon, we can probably still make it to the Tower before most of the crowd. It would be nice not to be elbow to elbow with a bunch of tourists. Besides, I’ve got something else planned for this afternoon.” Stroking his foot over Nigel’s calf, he raises a teasing brow. “It’s a surprise though, so I’ll just leave it at that.”

After a huge bite of the sandwich as he chomps it down, the crunch of the thick crispy bacon and nice, broiled top of the melted cheese along with the thick bread. The egg yolk breaks and soaks through the bread as he cuts into the middle of the croque monsieur. “I’d fucking much prefer to be ‘au naturel’ when it comes to the mornings. Not until when I abso-fucking-lutely have to dress up to go out, then I’ll put on some fucking clothes.” With a smirk and licking the corner of his lips as he licks a trail of the white sauce, he lets his face bask in the steam that still rises from the dark roast coffee. Regarding Hannibal through his heavy lashes as he takes a long chug, his crossed leg brushes his brother’s foot as the other strokes it over and then the leg of the table. “I’d like surprises and I won’t fucking prod you for that, I don’t like to be spoiled.” 

Swiping the napkin over mouth, he sets it down with a satisfied sigh. A hand resting on his lap, he finishes the cup of coffee down to the last drop. “Normally I don’t mind a little prodding, but in this case it’s too tempting to give hints, so I’m happy to leave it at that.” Resting the cup on the table, he leans over and pulls the pearls up and off of Nigel’s neck with a faint smirk. “Au naturel is even better with a little glamour, but I’m assuming that you completely forgot you even had these on.” The pearls puddle into a opalescent pile on the table next to his cup. Getting up from his seat, he sets his plate on a large silver tray on a dresser before opening it up to retrieve a few pieces of clothing. “Given what I recall of your low maintenance routine, I imagine if I start dressing now, we’ll both be ready to go at about the same time.”

His croque monsieur already having been devoured and savored, he washes down the richness of the sandwich with the rest of the strong and bitter coffee and puts the cup down with a clank. “Then fucking surprise me and make me to pick up my fucking jaw off the floor.” Watching the pearls get snatched by his brother, the clattering jewelry leaves him in a sweep. “Oh, I didn’t even fucking realize those were on me, you were explaining about the day I got those. Christmas day, I recall. The day I got fucking beatdown by stupid gangsters. Thank fuck I was hiding these inside my boots. Fucking morons.” Shaking his head and uncrossing his legs, he saunters off to the bathroom, scratching his head and ass. “I’d think so too, my fucking shower barely takes five minutes, while you take fucking fifteen at least.” He’s in and out of the shower quick, the steam rising up to the ceiling as he exits the door with a small towel. Shaking his head like a dog and splashing the water all over the place, including on his brother, he takes a pile of clothes from his small luggage and sits on the edge of the rumpled bed. 

Although the sun is bright, memories of the cold from the night before make him choose an especially thick dark green sweater that zippers up the neck to go with another pair of wool trousers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glances up as he pulls on his boots just in time to receive a splash of water in the face. Twitching away, he huffs a chuckle through his nose. “I think that was less than five minutes. Good thing I pared down my grooming.” Stepping over to a mirror above the dresser, he combs his still damp hair back with his fingers, lifting his chin as he adjusts his collar. For a brief moment, he drifts in deja vu. On his fourteenth birthday, he’d stared at himself in a mirror as he waited for Nigel to come home from work. He was so excited about the evening he’d planned for their celebration, his heart was already racing well before his brother walked in the door. Not unlike the steadily escalating ticking up of his pulse as he imagines Nigel’s face when he shows him the deed to their old apartment. His brother’s memories seemed to be returning at a surprising rate given his injury. With the exception of the argument they’d had over the breakup, those recollections were all inuring to his benefit. Even the argument had been brief and worked out for the best in that it let him purge himself of some of the guilt he’d held in so long. Smoothing a hand down the front of his sweater, he finishes his brief grooming and takes a seat at the table to peck at a few remaining pieces of fruit. “I’m already wondering how this trip will affect your recovery. It seems the memories are rolling back in.” Popping a strawberry in his mouth, he chews it down with a smile, unable to restrain himself from the bit of gentle prodding.

Putting on a thick pair of socks first, he puts on tight black boxers and the slimmest pair of dark-washed jeans and strides off to shave off his day-old stubble. Wrapping his arm around Hannibal’s middle, he grins and takes out an electric shaver to glide across his defined jawline with some of his brother’s shaving cream. Putting the aftershave onto his jaw and chin, he blow dries his still dripping hair until they are slightly damp. “Just had to wash the fucking cum and I didn’t really break a sweat, so whatever, three minutes is more than fucking enough.” fluffing his hair with his fingers as he rakes the long locks back, he puts the undershirt, long sleeve button up shirt, a thin sweater that covers his exposed waistband of his boxers and more loose and chunky knitted sweater that goes up to his neck and hangs loosely around his hips. “If it gets more warmer than the day before, then I am assuming I can lose a fucking layer, but considering the trees shaking like a goddamn rag dolls, I am positively sure my ass would freeze if I didn’t wear this many layers. Brr. I fucking hate hate winter. I will fucking say this thousand times and it’s still not enough.” His thick wool coat that his brother purchased for him goes on top, effectively covering his lithe frame and enveloping him with more heat. “I now have five fucking layers, so it better be not cold.” Stuffing some pieces of fruit inside his mouth and chewing them down eagerly, he wipes the corner of his mouth and grins. “I’d think it’d do us more good than bad, yeah? Considering how much memory I have managed to recollect.” Poking at Hannibal’s ass as he walks past his brother as he pops a piece of grape from his hand, his other non-dominant hand has fistful of fruit pieces inside, which he stuffs himself with them and spats seeds inside the trash can by the vanity. 

Shaking his head as Nigel pokes him, he pushes back from the table with a small laugh. “It seems to be doing wonders for both of us. I haven’t felt this light in a long time and you’re certainly in better spirits than I’ve seen you in since you opened up your eyes in that damn hospital.” Pushing one arm then another through the sleeves of his wool overcoat, he tugs the collar around his neck, adjusting it with a shift of his head. At the mirror he takes one last look as he buttons it down the front. A hint of a satisfied smile pulls at his lips as he turns around to grab his cell and room key from the corner of the table to shove into his pocket. “Let’s get going. When the waiter was leaving I told him to make sure there’d be a cab waiting on standby for us. I didn’t want to waste any time getting this day started. Too many things to do. And of course I’m eager to get you back here before we’re completely exhausted.” A quick flash of a wink punctuates his smirk as he waits at the open door.

“That damned hospital was a fucking bitch. As much as I’ve heard that you have been uttely stubborn and adamant about my well-being and recovery, I hated every single bits of it. Starting with that nauseating smell of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol and all that shit. Fucking hospital food, even I could cook better than fucking bland and tasteless crap.” After a long and exasperated sigh, followed by more shake of his head, he tilts his head and lifts the collar of the button down shirt up and over the layers of sweaters. “So I know we’re going to go to the Tower first and I just hope that there aren’t shit fuck loads of people like you said. It should be early enough I think.” Returning Hannibal’s smirk with his own sultry one that lifts his defined cheekbone, he strides across the floor as soon as he finishes lacing up his heavy boots. “Just in case, I’ll take one of your fucking scarves. Who the fuck knows it’ll be more freezing up there on the tower?” Brushing his hand over the scarf as he wraps it tightly around his neck, his hand brushes over his twin’s stomach as he exits the door of their hotel room, wiping his hand as he had finished devouring his fruit pieces. “I’m sure you can’t fucking wait to get into my ass or get a fucking load of cum inside you again.” 

Intently watching his hands adjust the scarf around Nigel’s neck, he shakes his head with a brief chuckle. “You always did have a delicate way of putting things.” Resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, his eyes slip closed as he leans in to whisper against his lips. “Fortunately, I like the way you put things. In your words and otherwise.” Another hand moves across Nigel’s back as he tilts into a kiss, pulling the twin close against him. His eyes linger on his brother’s as he parts, stroking his teeth over his lip. Humming as a smile grows wide across his face, he links their arms together and nudges him along. “I encourage you to keep talking like that all day. I’ll probably climb on top of you the moment we stumble back into the room.” The waiter having been true to his words, as soon as they reach the lobby, they’re ushered into a cab for the short ride to the Tower. Holding Nigel’s hand, he watches as the scenery rushes by the windows. 

His eyes narrow playfully as he scoffs. “Oh, fucking funny, Hannibal.” His lips slightly part as he watches his brother with a smoldering gaze. “You know I fucking hate to be vague or indirect with words, ever. Not my fucking forte.” His hand grabbing the lapel of Hannibal’s overcoat, he presses his lips harder against his twin as his nose brushes against the other’s. His gaze tilted downward as he parts, nipping slightly at his brother’s lower lip. Pursing his lips afterwards and smirking as his face turns to the side, he pushes an elbow up on his brother’s side. “Who the fuck said I’d stop? You know me, a bit of encouragement is all it takes for this perfect mouth of mine to keep going.” At least the sky is clear and albeit it is windy, the view would be spectacular on the tower. The traffic is light as they have managed to avoid the rush hour and the sidewalk is quiet as well with only few people passing by on the cobblestone. As the view of the familiar structure of the Eiffel Tower in his view, his hold on Hannibal’s hand tightens. He doesn’t have to utter the words out, the excitement is upon his face as his lips slightly twitch, curving up in a satisfaction as the ground near the tower seems quieter than usual, just like his brother have mentioned. 

His shoulders rising up around his neck, the wind blows his hair away from his face as he pulls the cab door open. Leaning just in, he offers a hand to Nigel. “You were right to wear so many layers. It’s freezing already and I’ve only been out of the cab less than a minute.” Glancing over at the Tower, he lifts his head as his eyes follow the impressive structure all the way to the top. “It seems as if the crowd is still relatively light. Maybe we can even have a little privacy.” A smile alights on his face, plumping his pink cheeks, as Nigel steps out of the cab and joins him in admiring the Tower. The tails of his coat flutter behind him as he takes Nigel’s hand and moves smoothly through the small gathering of tourists. “No sense in dawdling behind these others. They’ll still be snapping pictures by the time we reach the top.” 

Tugging his scarf close with one hand and holding Hannibal’s hand with the other, his steps quicken as he follows his brother. “I already have the fucking structure ingrained in my brain now. More so from what you have told me, the things we used to do near the tower.” The ascend to the tower is quick, through the elevator in the middle and all it takes is few staircases to climb in order to reach the top. There are even less groups of people, no tourists in sight as he looks down at the ground, people still snapping pictures as they pose in front of the tower. “More time for us to spend up here, I suppose.” Letting go of Hannibal’s hand as he walks around with both of his hands inside the pockets with a downward gaze at the panoramic view of the city of light, he wonders what would be like if he was up here after nightfall. “As much as I remember about us playing with snow and all of that fun, I still don’t remember us being up here.” His front pressing against his brother’s, he pecks a soft kiss on the corner of the other’s mouth, then tilts his head to surge into more passionate kiss. His arm winding around the back of Hannibal’s neck.

Arms crossed over his chest, he paces the perimeter of the small area, taking his time to admire the city that had meant so much during the best years of his life. A soft sigh lifts his chest, his tone wistful with a distant memory. “I remember it distinctly. We used to race up all seven hundred plus steps. By the time we got up this far we were both so winded we could barely talk.” The creases around his eyes deepen as a wide smile pulls his lips. Draping his arms around Nigel’s waist as they close the distance between one another, his full lips part with a soft breath as his brother teases him with a glancing kiss. Lips opening wider to envelop the other’s, he presses in for a deep kiss. A rush of deja vu moves through him as a soft moan vibrates his throat. Eyes still closed, his head falls forward, resting brow to brow. “Regardless of what you remember, your kiss still makes me just as weak in the knees as it did back then.”

The hand on the back of his brother’s neck moving forward to cup his twin’s smooth jaw, his full lips grope the other’s as the long kiss continues. “We must’ve been sappy little shits. thank fuck there is actually a functioning elevator at work.” Peppering a few more soft kisses along Hannibal’s lips as he hears their wet lips smack against each other’s, he gently pulls his brother’s collar of the coat and pushes him against one of the steel structure that supports where they are standing. “Doing exactly that here isn’t ideal, but I’d fucking love to enlighten you on that comment. So tell me, how did I kiss you back then?” His hand curling into a fist as he presses firm against Hannibal’s chest, through all his layers of clothes, he feels his heart thump against the other. Clashing into a deep kiss yet again, his heartbeat reverberates gradually through his brain as the time stops, he had lost count for how long he had been kissing his brother. “I’d imagine it was just like this.” His voice is barely a whisper when he slightly parts, letting go of his brother as he gently pushes the other off. 

His back hits the steel with a soft grunt puffing from his nose. Long lashes flutter as his eyes trail up from Nigel’s clenched hand to his intense gaze. Just being the object of his brother’s affection had always made his knees start to buckle. This was no exception. Despite what Nigel had said, there was a familiar warmth in his hazel hues. Seeing himself reflected in the dark pupils was like looking in the mirror at his younger self. Completely addicted to every touch. The sound of his heartbeat echoes loud in his head as he returns Nigel’s passionate kiss. Fingers curling into his coat as he pulls him closer. Windswept bangs drift over his closed eyes as he parts his lips wider to taste more of his brother’s warm mouth. A flush warms him from head to toe, deepening the pink on his cheeks. Rendered speechless a moment as Nigel pushes him off, he leans against the steel at his back, a hand bracing himself. His eyes wide and searching as soft pants lift his chest. “You’re definitely recalling more than you’re letting on. I think I felt that one down to my DNA.” 

His slightly damp hair whipping across his head as a strong gust sweeps the layer of his clothes. Vaguely remembering the interior of the house they lived in their early years of their lives, but not remembering how it looked outside, all he knows is that they weren’t exactly affluent and without having to worry for sheltering and eating as they had been back then. Leaning against one of the broken binoculars set up for people to look at the magnificent view of the city, he ponders as his hazel orbs gaze into the view. “I’d fucking expected that, I’m sure I can make your fucking knees give out just with my lips.” His eyes transfixed to the cityscape, but not focused as he is almost spellbound with the piece of the memory recollected almost unintentionally. “Should we go down, I think I want to come up here before we head back to the hotel at night. I just wonder what it’d be like kissing you at night with all the lights illuminating the nightscape.” His lips slightly parted, he drags his still flustered brother down the stairs. “So where are you taking me next?” His arm wraps around his brother’s middle and he can still feel the other’s heartbeat.

His eyes follow Nigel as the twin admires the city, heart still thumping in his head. Raking his fingers through his hair, he sinks further back against the beam as his breathing calms. His tongue sweeps between his lips to savor the last taste of the kiss. “I think you’ve just proven that. I still haven’t found my legs yet.” As he watches his brother seem to drift away in thought, he allows himself to do the same. It was in this very location that he’d planned to propose to Nigel. He’d gone over the details so many times, they were still etched in his memory. After having raced up the stairs, he’d get down on bended knee and pull the ring from his pocket. A simple band with a few diamond chips that he’d manage to afford by selling a few of his sketches and cutting corners wherever he could. His fingers twitch around the beam at remembering the feel of the velvet box in his hand. A certain sadness hides behind his smile. Their breakup had prevented him from ever following through. But nothing could stop him from asking now. All he needs is a ring. The cloud over his thoughts recedes as he visualizes the box still safely tucked away in his secret hiding place. The realtor had said that the home had been vacant for many years. Perhaps the ring was even still there. The feel of Nigel’s hand closing around his arm rouses him, pulling him roughly back to the present. Stumbling after him down the stairs, a lump swells in his throat as the thumping in his head grows louder. A broad smile lights up his face as he hurries ahead of his brother and pulls him along. “I told you it was a secret and you insisted that I not spoil it. You’ll see soon enough.”

Faintly tasting his brother on his lip as his tongue licks over his lower lip, his fingertips run against the metal rail of the stairs as he descends. Mischievously smirking as he slightly tilts his head, he chuckles as his gaze transfixes against Hannibal’s lips. “I have no fucking intention nor have the strength to carry your heavy ass down the tower. Maybe that’s why I so abruptly stopped.” Slowly walking down as he watches a big group of tourists pass beside them, he watches two young kids play along as they climb the stairs, playing rock, paper, scissors as they ascend each of the stair, playing different games as the smile plasters on the boys’ face. They are younger than the ages Hannibal and he had been, but the image of them vaguely reminds of them playing around the tower when they were teenagers. Tugging his brother’s arm hard, he chuckles. His steps quickening as he drags Hannibal down, the descend to the grounds is quicker than the way up. “Then fucking surprise me, why don’t you knock me off my fucking feet and make my knees weak?” A wide grin ingrains onto his face and it doesn’t fade away until his feet touches the ground once again. 

As soon as they’re down at the foot of the tower, just beyond the edge of a small crowd, he stops abruptly. Capturing Nigel’s face in his hands, he surges into a passionate kiss, their breath rising in a cloud of white in the cold air. Still holding his face, he peppers soft kisses on his lips as if he can’t get enough. “I know you were teasing me in there, but I really do hope the surprise knocks you off your feet.” Grabbing Nigel’s hand, he drags him along to the nearest cab. Once inside, he laces his fingers with his brother’s, the grin of an excited child on his face. After whispering the address to the driver, he shifts back in his seat, resting his other hand on top of Nigel’s, a thumb stroking over his ring finger. “I think this will be a quiet trip. I’m afraid if I even open my mouth I’ll give you too much of a hint.”

The wind blowing off his hair and his cheeks flushed red with the frigid air of winter, Hannibal’s warm hands are onto his face and his eyes immediately double in size and then closes down, his chest fluttering as the other surges. His arms brushing over Hannibal’s sides as he feels the soft wool glide across his fingertips, his stilling heartbeat escalates through the roof again as he breathlessly exhales as soon as they part. “It fucking did. Fucking Christ, Hannibal.” Savoring the taste of the deep and fervent kiss, he wipes the corner of his lips as he gets on the taxi. Cocking his head, he doesn’t try to hear what his brother is whispering into the taxi driver. His eyes merely fix onto his brother’s profile as he squeezes his hand firmer against the other’s. “Would it intensify how much I’d be fucking surprised, or knocked off my fucking knees if you have blindfolded me? As much as I’d like to know, I can sense that where we’re going isn’t just an ordinary touristy place or anything remotely close like that.” A faint smirk twitches his lips as he looks down at his hand, lifting his ring finger as his brother strokes it over. 

Meeting Nigel’s smirk with just a hint of a chuckle, he squeezes his hand tighter. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but you’re more than welcome to close your eyes once we get a little closer.” His eyes wander out the window nearest him, noting increasingly familiar landmarks, his chest lifting with a faint sigh. “It won’t be much longer. And I promised no hints, but it’s definitely not a tourist haunt. Very few people even know it exists.” Eyes lowering at the slight movement of Nigel’s finger, he stares for a moment, lost in an image of the gold band around it. Lips pressed into a smile, he meets his brother’s eyes with glow of warmth in his own. “Just a few more miles and you’ll see for yourself.’

“I’ll stick to my words, as I’d like to be completely knocked off my feet.” Hearing Hannibal’s eager words, his eyes close as his hold on his brother’s fingers tighten. “It must be a place that is dear to both of us.” As much as he wants to maintain his eyes to be fluttered close, he lets his curiosity get him and his eyes continues to flicker open like a camera shutter. Meeting Hannibal’s eyes with an intensity, as well as the comforting warmth that radiates from his hazel hues, his expression mirrors that of his brother’s. “Now I’ll fucking make sure to close my eyes, you’d have to guide me into wherever we’re going.”

Having finally reached their destination, so much adrenaline is coursing through his veins that he nearly leaps out of the cab. Rushing around to the passenger door, he tugs it open and takes Nigel’s hand. “Keep those eyes closed until I say otherwise. Much too close to risk spoiling it now.” His palms moist with sweat, he guides his brother to door. Even the air seems different than back in the city, a hint of familiar smells tickles his nose. “Once we’re inside, I want you to keep your eyes shut a little longer. I’ll guide you up some stairs.” With a faint click the key turns in the lock. The scent of well-worn hardwood smacks him clean in the face as he tugs Nigel up the stairs behind him. Standing at the door to their old apartment still painted the dark blue he’d applied himself, he tugs at his lip, his hand on the knob. “Okay. Here we are. On the count of three.” Racing excitedly through his countdown, he throws the door open. A wide rectangle of light from the window illuminates the room. Other than a twin mattress tucked against a wall the small space is empty. His wide eyes grow even wider as he turns them to see Nigel’s reaction.

He can feel his thick eyelashes press against his skin as his eyes remain tightly closed. His heart slowly and strongly thumping against his chest walls and beginning to escalate as he grips his brother’s sweaty hands, he deeply inhales as he feels the staircase with the tip of his boots. Hearing the undisguisable excitement in Hannibal’s voice, his lips maintain to be curved in a satisfied smirk. “Wherever this is, I can sense the excitement radiating like a fucking contagious disease. I like it.” As his brother ushers him up the stairs, he can sense the air around the interior is a bit different. More comforting, simple and unsophisticated. His free hand rubbing against the tight denim that clings onto his thighs, he hears the soft creak of the door being opened. Feeling a sudden warmth envelop him, he undoes his scarf and takes off his thick wool coat. When the count of three is over, his eyes flutter open as his eyes have been closed, mirroring his gesture. At the sight of the familiar rectangular window and watching the light break through the surface of the hardwood floor, the sight of the small mattress that they made love so many times coming into the view, his steps gravitate towards the metal frame that leans against the wall. “This is the very place where we lived.” Swallowing dry, his lips part as his soft hazel orbs begins to glisten as they grow glassy. 

Surrounded by a fog of sweet deja vu, his eyes light up as he watches Nigel’s expression change. For a moment, he can picture him as the little brother who was so excited at finally being able to spend more than one night with a roof over their heads. Following his twin’s eyes to the mattress, his heart seems to lodge in his throat, pumping loud in his ears. The lines on his face soften as his own dark eyes grow liquid. A warm smile pulls at his lips as he laces their fingers together. “I could see it coming back to you before you even spoke.” A faint shake of his head as his eyes drift over Nigel’s face drinking in every detail. “This is the surprise. Not only did I want you to see it, but I wanted it to be ours. It holds too many memories to belong to anyone else.”

Putting the scarf and the coat over on the ledge of the window, his face lightens up by the streaming light accentuating his chiseled and angular face. His warm expression intensifying the warmth that radiates from his body, his lips slack even more as he squeezes Hannibal’s fingers tight. His eyes drifting down on the floor and then sweeping across the small kitchenette, he could see his brother as a teen cooking cassoulet on Christmas and setting up the small Christmas tree in the middle of the room as he entered through the very same door he once entered countless times before. A thin line of tear streaming down his face as he closes the distance between them, he clashes his lips against Hannibal’s, his unlaced hand pressing against the other as he pushes his brother against the wall right next to tucked mattress. “There are no fucking words to speak, thank you for the surprise.” Whispering against his brother’s lips, he surges his lips again, his hand undressing the other’s overcoat and undoing the zipper on the sweater. 

As he watches Nigel’s eyes move through the kitchen area, he pictures it decorated with fresh flowers, a pot of cassoulet in the oven filling the apartment with delicious smells. Although it was much too small to be a permanent home, it would make a perfect place to stay on the many trips to Paris he envisioned in their future. The next, he hoped, being for their wedding. His eyes shimmer with tears as Nigel moves closer, the look on his brother’s face making him melt into a puddle of emotion. Already breathless as Nigel’s lips close over his, he pulls him close with a hand at the back of his neck. Lips groping wet over the other’s, faint whimpers sound in his breath. Bracing his hand against the wall as he’s backed against it, his lips brush against Nigel’s as he lingers close. “No words,” he whispers, trailing off into another deep kiss. Shrugging his overcoat off his shoulders, it falls to the floor. Hands rush to undo Nigel’s jeans, pushing them down just over his hipbones. His lips slide from his brother’s for a much needed breath. His cheek strokes against Nigel’s jaw as he presses wet kisses on his neck. “I want you so much right now. I love you so much.” His hips roll forward as his breath warms his brother’s ear, “Me penetre, cher frere.”

At Hannibal’s words, his deft hands quickly undo his brother’s pants as he pulls them off just below the knees. Shimming out of his own jeans as he steps out from them, pulling two remaining layer of his shirt with a swift swing over his head, his hand moves as fast as his heart, hammering frenetically as he makes a quick work of Hannibal’s clothes. “I think it’s more than fucking appropriate to do this on the very bed we made countless lovemaking before.” Pulling the bed down by the window, just like he had reminisced many times in his dreams, he takes his brother and lowers him onto the bed. Crawling on top of his twin as he parts the other’s legs, his heartbeat already echoes through his brain. “No more fucking teasing, I-I’m fucking speechless. Je t’adore beaucoup, mon cher frere.” His smooth head pushing through the resistance, his hand spreads and kneads Hannibal’s thighs. 

In a flurry of restless hands, he pushes Nigel’s jeans down before tugging his own pants over his boots. Kicking those off next, he watches near breathless as he mattress lowers to the floor. Even his own voice sounds far away with the heavy thumping resonating in his head. His gaze locked on Nigel’s, a faint “yes” slips between soft puffs of breath. In the haze of arousal and tender memories, sinking into the mattress feels like sinking into a cloud. Just as the first time they’d made love, his legs curl around Nigel’s, arms holding his head close. Whispering against his neck, his lips brush the warm skin. “I adore you always. I love you forever.” The first slow thrust inside pushes the air from his lungs with a breathy moan. Rocking his hips, soft groans flow rhythmical with each tilt.

As his thick length penetrates through his brother’s tight resistance, he pistons his hips hard and their twin sized bed creaks with exertion. Stilling as his thighs dig under Hannibal’s thigh as he lifts his twin’s ass up, his spine arches like a bow as his arm circles around his brother’s neck, holding him close. “Oh fuck.. This is all I ever fucking wanted…. The thought that you could have purchased the very place we used to live in never crossed my fucking mind.” His curved length swiftly moving and thrusting in deeply as his heavy balls and the base smack with the metal bedframe continues to squeak with each of his thrust, their conjoined body move in undulating wave. His spine shudders in arousal as his cheek brushes against Hannibal’s jaw, his hips jerk relentlessly as he picks up the speed. 

Nigel’s affection words ring like the sweetest music to his ears. A pink flush blossoms on his chest and cheeks. Letting his eyes slip closed, his cheek rests against his brother’s shoulder. The rhythmic movement of their bodies lulling him into an almost trance like state. Lifting into Nigel’s deep thrusts, a heaviness settles into the valley of his hips. A groan swells from deep inside as his cock aches with a sudden surge of blood. “Oh god, Nigel. You’re all that I’ve ever wanted. Every day of my life.” Crossing his arms behind Nigel’s neck, his nails rake over his smooth back, clinging tighter the increasing pace escalates the throbbing in his groin. Meeting his brother’s thrusts with diving curves of his hips, his groans grow louder. “Oh god… Yes… I can feel every inch of you … So good …” A fat tear slides over his cheek to trail down Nigel’s back. 

A layer of sweat covering his back as his arm muscles flex, an erratic and wanton groan slips out with each hard thrust of his length. Familiar heaviness pooling around his abdomen as the blood pumps through his lower half. Hannibal’s circles of muscles constricting every vein on his throbbing cock, the fluttering and pulsating walls sends him rapidly over the edge. The friction still upon him as the a shudder carries from his toes to the tip of his head. His gingerly shut eyes opening up as he feels a warm spill of his brother’s tear, his full lips brush over the trail and locks against his brother’s, pushing his tongue inside. “I need you to fucking cum right fucking now, I need you to cum with me.” Lifting his brother up more as his hips rock in quick successions, his fingers tightly grip onto his twin’s jutting hipbones. 

His toes curl as his muscles tighten, his chest pressing hard against Nigel’s as the move together. The thundering in his head synchronizes with the rhythm of his brother’s heart. A whimpered breath lifts his chin as Nigel’s lips stroke his cheek. Plush lips seeking a kiss press full and open against the other’s. Feeling himself begin to melt further into the bed, he deepens the kiss as if his brother’s very breath is life-giving oxygen. With a low groan, his head falls to Nigel’s shoulder. His walls squeeze tighter with each quick thrust, his heavy cock spilling between their bodies. “Oh god.. I’m close….” The muscles of his lean stomach spasm, curling his body tight around his brother. Clenching his eyes, his mouth spreads wide with a sob. “Oh god! …” A few twitches of his hips precede a hard jerk forward. “Ahh! …” Ribbons of warm cum stream from his cock, painting his chest with pearly white. “Oh god. … I fucking love you.” 

With each fast and shallow thrust, his transparent liquid mingles with his brother’s slick, which eases his thick length to curve in and out easily against the tight heat. Still surging into kiss until Hannibal’s head falls against his shoulder, his hold tightens around the back of his brother’s neck, clutching the damp hair around his fist. With a particularly hard and deep thrust that resonates through his core as all the nerves enliven with overwhelming sensation, he feels Hannibal’s hips jerk. Simultaneously as he feels a warm trail of cum wet their pressed bodies, he spurts thick splatters of ropes deep inside his brother’s cavern. “Fuck…. I fucking love you too, toujours.” His kneeled leg slacking off to the edge of the bed, he melts onto his brother’s cum-coated body. 

Tears stream over his cheeks as he sobs, clinging to Nigel’s neck. Air rushing in to fill his burning lungs. The deep thudding of his heart radiating through his whole body. “P-please don’t ever leave me. … I couldn’t bear to be without you again.” Pressing desperate kisses along his brother’s jaw, he moves on to his lips. With each lift of his chin and tilt of his head, the words echo. I love you. Hovering close, his eyes glisten, filled with a love so overwhelming there are no words to express it. Reaching down, he takes Nigel’s hand and brings it to his lips. A soft kiss, a brush of his cheek over the smooth skin. His thumb strokes over the ring finger. A tight smile spreading over his face breaks open with a gentle laugh. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional. You know how I get.” His eyes follow his fingers as they curve around Nigel’s cheek, imagining his face as he walks down the aisle. Will you marry me? Swallowing the words that threaten to leap from his mouth, he brushes his nose against his twin’s. “We should probably move on with the rest of the tour now. I’m sure there are more memories to be found.” 

His lips brushing against Hannibal’s cheeks as he feels the warm trail of his brother’s tears wet them, he tastes the strong saltiness of the liquid as he breaths warm and moist. Emotion-filled tears tend to taste more salty and he is definitely sure this had been the most saltiest tears he had ever tasted. His broad hand stroking and raking into the damp and dark hair of the other, his nails scratch the scalp as the fingertips move upward. “Why in the fucking hell would I even leave you, Hannibal? I am not fucking going anywhere.” His length still inside his brother as his twin kisses desperately, he returns with the same eagerness as he presses firmly against the other’s. His eyes closed, another hand gently cups his twin’s defined jawline as his slightly calloused hand brushes against it. Watching his hand turn into an object of affection, he merely chuckles and runs a hand over Hannibal’s heart. “Mm, oh, I more than fucking know how you get, but do what your fucking heart tells you to do.” Giving a gentle rock of his hips, his lips move downward to kiss his twin’s collarbone and buries his nose as he smells the familiar musk of his brother’s natural scent. Moving up to kiss his brother once again on the lips, he smiles against the other and his cock slips out, pulling the other up as his legs slide off the edge of the bed, standing. “What do you want to show me now, dear brother?” He puts on his tight boxers and thin undershirt for now, his eyes flickering onto the kitchenette opposite him. 

Hoping to sneak away long enough to search for the ring in the garden, he quickly tugs on his pants. Fingers rake through his hair as he follows Nigel’s eyes to the kitchen. “Lots of memories there. Most of them rather disastrous when you were involved.” Chuckling warmly, he tosses the rumpled jeans to his brother. “I was thinking that maybe you’d want to take a look up on the roof. That’s where you first tried to teach me how to shoot a gun. If we’re lucky, maybe there are even some spent shells up there.” Leaning down to pick up his coat, he pull his cell from the pocket, thumb stroking over the screen as if to search for a number. “I’ll follow you up there in a few minutes. I just want to give the realtor a quick call to get the deed sent to the hotel.”

“Yeah, I’m most definitely sure I either burned the whole fucking stove or I was initiating the food fight back then.” Mischievously smirking as he snatches the jeans in mid-air, putting them on with a haste. Throwing on the loose sweater on top of his thin shirt, he sits on the foot of the bed and begins to lace the boots. “And I don’t yet to recall what exactly happened up there, but I’m sure they’re most likely be fucked up shenanigans.” As soon as he finishes putting the boots on, he smacks Hannibal’s ass and hops up the stairs to the roof, wanting to find some empty bullet shells like his brother mentioned. “Do what you gotta do and join me on the goddamn roof, it’s cold as fuck.” Regretting not bringing his thick wool coat, he strides across the roof, hoping to find some of those casings as he looks around the vicinity. A bit of recollections flash as he had been teasing his brother with the gun, trying to get him to hit the targets as well as to make the other hold the can, so he can shoot it down. 

As soon as he hears the door to the roof open, he bounds down the stairs and rushes to the garden. Spying a rusty shovel leaned against the brick exterior, he begins digging into the frozen ground. The wind licks over his collar, gusting snow against his back. Tossing another clump of earth into a growing pile, his eyes grow wide as they land upon a small, plastic-wrapped package. Now kneeling in the deep snow, he brushes away the last of the dirt with his bare hands. Within just a minute, he’s back in the apartment. Quickly shaking the snow from his hair,he takes a seat on the bed. His fingers still soiled with dirt tear the package open. Ah. There you are. The small diamond chips sparkle in the light streaming through the window. Tucking the ring safely in his pocket, he wipes his hands on his pants. 

Walking along the ledge of the roof as his fingers run against the dusty brick and cement layer, the paint had been chipped and color had faded with age. The evidence of repainting after repainting, the floor was sticky against his soles of the boots. The frigid winter wind sweeping his hair and the hem of the loose sweater, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and wanders around until he sees a rusty and very soiled casing of his handgun tucked in the corner, where the two ledges meet. It was inevitable that it was his, as no one produced those bullets anymore. They had gone extinct and more modern version had come out in retrospect of the older bullet casings. Reaching a hand out to grab the shell, he runs his thumb and index finger against the metal and puts that inside his jean pocket.

Finding Nigel shivering in a corner on the roof, he grabs him by the wrist and drags him towards the stairs. “We can come back up in a while. There’s something I need to show you downstairs first.” Shaking his head at the grumbling behind him, his face beams with a wide smile. “You’ll see in just a minute.” His heart thunders in his ears as the door to the apartment swings open. Guiding Nigel to sit on the bed, he immediately falls to his knees. His cheeks flushed from the cold, windswept hair drapes over soft eyes. “Just let me say this from start to finish. I’m afraid if I stop I’ll just start crying again.” Forcing a lump down his throat, he takes his brother’s hand. “Ever since the first time you kissed me, I knew that I would never love anyone as much as I love you.” A tear brims at the corner of his eye. “I’ve wanted to marry you since our eighteenth birthday. As soon as I could.” His hand reaches into his pocket, emerging with the ring in his fingers. “I can’t wait one more day to ask you. … Will you marry me, Nigel?”

Retreating to the corner of the roof to look down at the view of the people walking past the sidewalk and to take in more of the space as he remembers both of them naked on the roof after their supposed ‘target practice’ had ended, Hannibal’s big hand is upon his wrist. “What the fuck is this, Hannibal, I thought you were the fucking one who needed the goddamn break and said you’d be up here once it’s done - “ His eyes narrowing as he mutters back at his brother, he sits on the bed and runs his hand on his windblown hair. Looking at his brother’s serious expression, his heart flutters as he gently sticks his hand out. With each word Hannibal speaks, his hazel hues soften, the irises growing in size as he locks his eyes onto his brother’s face. After registering all the words, a fat tear of joy falls onto Hannibal’s hand which holds his, his liquid eyes gazing onto the ring in his twin’s fingers. “Oh fuck yes, Hannibal, it’s everything I have fucking wanted. Of course I will marry you.” He intertwines the other hand with his brother’s. “Why don’t you put the ring on my finger?”


	8. Nigel's Ending

The first thing the medical personnels take notice is how Nigel’s blood draws a perfect heart shape above where he had been shot. A green cop had mistakenly shot him as Nigel drew an imaginary gun with his hand gesture. His real gold-capped handgun still tucked into the back of the waistband of his jeans. Gabi had his second replica of the original one, the one that had shot Charlie. He had genuinely believed her and he had been wrong. And he could care a fucking shit about that.

 

His darling Gabi aside, the real concern had to do with his brother. When his hazel orbs faded into the abyss, the pupils losing focus as his still open eyes gazed into nothingness, his still warm lips curved slightly upward in a smile. I’m dying, but for you, Hannibal, I’ll fucking smile. How ironic.

 

When he was writing the note to his brother, his mood was overwhelmed with everything but happiness. The breakup still tore through his heart and he hadn’t completely forgiven his brother for abandoning him alone in Paris. He still remembered the amount of tears he had shed to get over the heart-shattering departure of his brother. Maybe he still held the grudge and hadn’t forgiven him. Along with his gun, his wallet and the receipt for his second gun which he had gifted Gabi, there was this bloodstained and tear soaked letter, his last words to Hannibal inside the back pocket.

 

_Dear. mon frere._

_It has been exactly thirty fucking years since you have abandoned me out of your fucking needs. I hope you’re happy in the States. So far, my fucking life has been shit and that's an understatement. Nothing but sheer horrid successions of shouldn’t-have-fucking-done-these fucked up shits. I’ve tried everything in desperation, I even fucked girls. The pin-up girl tattoo that you’ll find on my neck is the proof. I’ve tried to kill myself multiple times. The goddamn hospital had been my second home for a long time, motorcycle accident, drowning, overdosing, drinking myself to death, intentionally and unintentionally, even with the fucking complications and infections with the fucking gash on my left side, it didn’t kill me. I wish it had._

_Everyone dubbed me strong and resilient, but when it comes to you, I’m fucking none of that. I’m reduced to puddle of tears and I’ve decided to do it, on the thirtieth anniversary of the day when you have left me. How serendipitous and befitting._

_Since the day you left me, my life has been spiralling downward. I fucking hated you and all I had was contempt towards you. You shattered my heart into a million fucking pieces, spat onto each piece, poured fuel over them and ignited the fire. I put them back and my heart is black. What do I have to do to fucking rid of you in my life? My last name. I resemble you. I’ve even thought about gouging my fucking face off, or have the goddamn plastic surgery._

_But the thing I constantly have to admit is that.. I’m hopelessly and desperately in love with you. You’ve been the only one and no one will have me after, because I’m going to die and knowing that you’ll be happy without me. Be happy. I want you to be._

_All I want for you to do is to think of me every fucking second and think of what could’ve happened._

 

The paramedics carry Nigel on the gurney and finds a very weak and fluttering pulse. They try their best to resuscitate him and they are hopeful. Once he gets into the surgery and after the bullet had been taken out, he’d be in induced coma and once the intracranial swelling subsides, he’d be awake. Although memory loss would be likely.

 

Noticing the emergency contact as his only family, his brother in the States, they immediately contact Hannibal as Nigel gets out of the surgery, asking the twin to transport his brother to America to monitor him for a further recovery. Once he approves, then it is a swift process that barely takes a day.

 

It’s two days after his surgery and his health significantly deteriorates. His vitals hover between what’s considered normal and dangerous. Close to midnight, his oxygen mask covered face doesn’t fog up as his breathing completely stops. The vital machine uncontrollably beats as the nurses rush to Nigel’s side. His heart rate flutters, seventy, sixty-nine…

 

The blood pressure skyrockets as the pressure inside his brain builds. After ministering drugs, they watch for a minute, to observe if he is reacting to the drug that they have just shot directly through his bloodstream, to thin the blood to ease the intercranial pressure.

 

When his heart slows and stops, the nurses rush to resuscitate his heartrate as cardiopulmonary resuscitation is performed. Hundred, two hundred, three hundred chest compressions are performed in bare three minutes.

 

Electrical cardioversion follows. Stripped off of his hospital gown, his whole body violently rises and falls as the paddles jolt him of increased bolts. The vital machine continues to beep in a straight line and it stays that way for more than three minutes.  

 

The flatline rings a continuous beep and Nigel is pronounced dead at Johns Hopkins, just a few days short of his fiftieth birthday.

 

All the hooked machines and lines taken off from his body and covered in a white cloth, the nurses carry him to be processed, their face impassive as if he's merely another corpse out of millions.

 

 


	9. Hannibal's Ending

His eyes follow the ring to the floor, frozen as it rolls on its edge and falls silently still. His brain is still for a moment too. A blank look on his face. His hand curls around his knee as his lids slip closed. Behind them tears swell until they seep through his lashes. _You're not really here, are you?_ The lines around his eyes deepen, forcing tears to roll over his cheeks and fall to his chest. A soft sob takes over his face as his body begins to shake. Sinking lower to the floor, breathless sobs pull his head over his knees. "Oh god. You're not really here." Fingers clutching now, his face melts into tears. "Oh god, Nigel. I miss you so fucking much. I can't - ... I can't do this. I can't do this without you anymore. ... Why? Why did you have to leave me?"

The truth unrolls in his head like a film. Fragments of scenes from the hospital. Nigel wired to every monitoring machine they had or he insisted they buy. The still line when his heart finally stopped. The indifferent faces on the men who wheeled him away. Ashes blowing in the late summer wind, falling gently over the last blooms in the garden. Endless sleepless nights curled up so tight he thought he could disappear into himself. When he wanted more than anything to run away to wherever Nigel was. The morning he woke up to the sound of the shower running. How he ran breathlessly to the bath knowing that it had all been a bad dream. The relief that swelled in his heart when his brother turned over his shoulder with a warm smirk. …

"It wasn't real. None of it was real."  Head in his hands, he weeps like a broken child. The pain in his heart so crushing he prays for it to suddenly stop. "No. No. ... This wasn't supposed to happen. It was always supposed to end with us together. It was the only thing that kept me going all of those years. ..." Rolling to the floor, he holds his knees to his chest. More scenes flash through his mind. The plane trip. Their birthday dinner. Making love at the hotel. In each one, the image of Nigel slowly disappears. "No. You were there. I felt you. You were with me. ... No .... Please don't leave me again."

It had been thirty years since he walked away from Nigel. Every day since, he'd fallen deeper into a black hole of grief and regret. Shutting down from the inside out until he was no more than a shell. The first crack had come when he learned of his brother's unsuccessful suicide attempt, when the light began seeping in. Building to a glowing hope so bright it consumed his every waking thought. So much time to make up for. So many things they could do together with the time they had left. Nigel had to wake up. There was simply no other way their story could end.

Lying there, curled on his side, the sun sets on all of his hopes. The shattered pieces come together to fulfill one last promise. With the calm commitment of a somnambulist, he rises up to sit on the edge of the bed. One last scene begins. Over his shoulder, he sees Nigel stretched out on this very bed. His hazel eyes bright as he counts the day’s take of cash. Setting the last of their dinner plates on the table, he quietly approaches. Fingers dragging feather light touches up Nigel’s calf, over the dip of his spine. His dark hair falling over his eyes as he leans down to press a soft kiss on his brother’s neck. The fond smirk that greets him.

Hannibal’s hand moves as if magnetized, finding a gold capped handgun at the small of his back. His eyes drift closed as he pictures leaning in to kiss those perfect lips. The barrel of the gun pointed at his temple, one last thought. _Til death do us part._

__  
  



End file.
